~~~Tales of an Old Warrior~~~
~~The Death of Lourie Svana~~
~Written by Blince~
Smoke rose from Blince’s pipe as he slowly made his way down the path to his home, his feet carrying him fast with each step until he was brought unto a sight that would cause him to pause. Staring at this scene in front of him, he took one last puff of his pipe before dropping it to the ground and smashing it beneath his boot, and continuing forward.
The scene that Blince was brought to view was a mother, a young little thing with shinning brown hair and pretty features, all covered in blood. She was kneeling, amongst her bags and baskets, clutching something to her chest with both hands, rocking her torso back and forth as one would with a small child when trying to let it sleep. Blince’s view came down upon this, and his eyes narrowed, his one working eye taking this all in slowly. His experienced gaze seeing something all too familiar to him, bloody footsteps, torn clothing, smashed bags…
The woman looked up at Blince, eyes wide and blood red with tears that at this point were no longer coming. Blince kneeled before the girl, his hand reaching out to clutch her chin softly and bring it up to peer at him. “What’s your name, Missy..?” he asked to her in a soft tone, though it wouldn’t have been much different to his gruff, deep voice. The girl shook her head a few times, holding out the body of her dead child for a second before clutching it back to her chest. Blince remained by her, one arm around her shoulders for some time before she actually did speak. “Lourie Svana…” She choked out in response to his question, “Lissbeth…” she choked out again, evidently meaning the deceased child. “I’m sorry, Lourie…” Blince began, though she cut him off. “Kill me… Please… I don’t want to be without her...”
Blince frowned, peering at the weeping woman for some time before he just gave a nod. He knew what he was going through; he knew that when he was in her position, he wanted to die as well. Sometimes he still wished he had.
“You’re sure…?” he grunted out to her
“Yes! Do it! Just! Just…! Tell the Father…” She screamed at him, before muttering the child’s Father’s name.
Blince’s hand moved swiftly around her neck, snapping it in one quick movement. As painless a death as he could give her.
Blince later picked up the bodies, whatever belongings they had, and took them to a spot where he had given his family a ceremonial burial in Bree-land. He stayed there, for a whole day, working through the night, to dig them their graves, give them their tombstones and inscribe them. After doing so, he cleaned himself up slightly, and went onwards to go and find the child’s Father. What honour Blince had left had been put to the test, and he had upheld it as best he could.
