After a long winter weighed heavily upon the land, spring finally arrived—the most beautiful season of the year—and its warmth spread everywhere. Flowers bloomed, and the fields turned green, but eyes still bore the scars of old wounds that time could not erase.
Along the way, Rose walked with quiet steps. She was no longer that little girl left behind by time; her spirit had matured before her body, and she now carried in her heart a wisdom beyond her years.
During her usual rounds to inspect the fields, a strange glint on the ground caught her attention. She approached cautiously, and a shining sword appeared before her, lying alone among the grass.
She wondered in surprise:
-Who brought it here? It must belong to a noble knight; I have never seen anyone like him in these parts before.
Rose struggled between the fear of touching it and examining it and the urge to satisfy her curiosity. Before she reached out with her bare hands to pick it up from the green grass, she felt a cold current seep into her hand.
That did not stop her from looking at it up close.
She kept staring at it for a long time. She saw the reflection of her own eyes, bruises on the edge of the blade, and words engraved on it with the magic of writing, shining like moonlight, clear as the face of fate.
-What is written here? I don't understand a thing.
She continued to stare intently until the silence of the place was broken by the sound of a sporadic cough, emanating from the depths of the field. She spun around in terror and shouted:
-"Who's there? Come out immediately!"
It was only a few moments before the silence was shattered by the sound of a hacking cough coming from deep within the field. She turned in alarm and shouted:
-"Who's there? Come out at once!"
She stepped forward hesitantly, gripping her sword, ready to defend herself. There she found herself facing an elderly man, exhausted and worn out, his features bearing the marks of long-suffering pain.
-"What are you doing here? Are you injured?"
--"Yes… and unfortunately, my injury is worse than you think. This sword suits you; would you like to keep it?"
-"Is it yours?"
--"It was mine… before it abandoned me, just as everyone else does. I'll give it to you if you help me."
She took a step back and said firmly:
— I can't. Take your sword and get out of my sight before my mistress sees me.
— Your mistress? Are you a slave?
— You could say that. Do you see that small castle over there? That's the slave orphanage, and I'm one of them. So go away.
The man smiled bitterly and said:
— How about I teach you fencing in exchange for your help?
— I don't want to.
— Aren't you tired of this bondage? I'll help you escape too… just agree… I'm about to lose consciousness…
He didn't finish his sentence, as his body slumped to the ground.
Rose muttered sadly: What a wretch.
She dragged him with difficulty to a wooden cart, covered him with straw, then carried him to a nearby cave, where she tended to his wounds before leaving at dawn.
When he awoke, he was overcome with bewilderment:
— Where am I? Did I really do that?
Days passed since their fateful encounter; he had kept his promise and began teaching Rose the art of fencing. Rose's features transformed from coldness and stiffness to resolve and steadfastness;
From wounds in a small heart to wounds in a hand gripping a sword she saw as her final path to salvation. She learned with passion, growing day by day, until the sword became an extension of her arm and a part of her body.
But the years had weighed heavily on the stranger's body, and one day his weakness overcame him. She stared at him and said:
— Will I die before I can defeat you?
— I made a losing deal with a foolish girl… I taught you so much that my own body has nothing left to give.
A question lingered in her mind—one she could never find an answer to, yet she kept asking it over and over.
-Who are you? And where did you come from?
— You'll find out when the time comes… Don't rush fate.
He handed her the sword and the dagger, and said in a low voice:
— From now on, this is your sword. And this dagger is a parting gift. Run away as soon as you can, and don't look back.
— Can I really?
— You must. Fate cannot be bargained with. And take the horse standing over there; I bought it yesterday… It's like you—alone.
She looked at him for a long time and said:
-"Why are you doing all this? What will you gain?"
He laughed and said:
-"Didn't I tell you I made a bad deal?"
He burst out laughing until tears streamed from his eyes, and for the first time, a pure smile appeared on Rose's lips, though it did not last long.
The stranger departed this world, and was buried near the unknown dead, without a name or a farewell.
Rose stood before his grave and whispered:
— If I die here, I'll be buried like you… and I don't want that fate.
Then she turned and walked down a path of no return