A Warrior through and through

Before.

It took two months to get word from the western battlefront where she was deployed. By then, the war had taken hold on the land; supplies were a rare find and often expensive. This did not concern me though; I had all the money I needed.

On that day, I took my usual trip to the little town west of the hill on which my house lay. As I entered the town, one could feel the depressing mood of wartime looming over the wooden buildings and shops. The dark clouds did not help much too. The blacksmith's forge was cold, an unusual sight. The baker's shop was closed too; during wars, bread is always taken first for the soldiers. People walked the streets with their heads down, their minds full of concerns and problems. I headed towards the tavern, the only business that seemed to be open. I could see there were a few people though. Men who came to have a last drink to wash way their frustrations before bed sat in the dark corners and sipped their ale slowly.

As I entered the building, a huge shadow loomed over me. It was Noel, the owner of the tavern.

"Walter! Its been many a day since I last saw you!" he shouted, laughing in delight, "You have finally decided to interact with your fellow man!" he said placing a gigantic hand on my shoulder. He reeked of sour ale. Everyone knew that in over twenty years, there has not been a day Noel was sober.

"I just want to know if something has come in for me," I say, brushing his hand away from my shoulder.

"I dunno, let me check with Emmy. EMMY!" he shouted. A plump woman with jet black hair came out of the kitchen. Her face was red from being close to the fires of ovens. She reached with surprising swiftness. This was Noel's wife. She was a chef; one of the best on this side of the nation. Some say that she was taught the culinary arts in the Magisterium. If there was any truth to that she never said, always avoiding the question with a smile and a jug of ale on the house.

"Did we get anything for Walter in the new shipment?" Noel asked his wife. She nodded

"Yep, came in yesterday. Come with me, it's quite a load." She said, already walking away, expecting me to follow her. We passed by the kitchen to the stores where they kept their wine in barrels. She stopped between two large ones and pointed to a large box.

"That came from the western front. I'll leave you now. Be sure to tell me when you leave." She said, giving me a wink. She always gave me her apple pie whenever I came around. At that time, I barely noticed. I kept my eyes on the box, having a vague idea of what was inside. Immediately Emmy left, I fell to my knees and opened the box. It was bolted shut, but the cheap wood was brittle enough for me to break open. When I created a wide enough hole, I reached in and pulled out something long. It was too dark to see what it was, kneeling between the barrels so I stood up and raised the object to the light from the window.

It was a sword.

Her sword.