Yet another day... A cold nip in the winter air, but a fairly nice day nonetheless.
It's when you do the least that you think about the most. Rhyva absently paced the streets of Bree with a half content, half solemn look on her face as she contemplated all sorts of things that were a million miles away from the village she was in charge of protecting. Her presence was only to deter crime, but she knew beyond reasonable doubt that she was so lost in her head that she wouldn't have noticed anything beyond screaming and violence. Fortunately, she managed not to walk past anything she should have been attentive towards.
"What is 'love'? How many people ask themselves this question on a minute by minute basis? It's such a powerful word, not used lightly. It's meant to convey trust. It's meant to express loyalty, undying loyalty towards a person even beyond the grave. What do I love?"
She paused in her tracks, stopping before the square afore the pony, and gave a glance to her left. With a sigh, she kept onward, shaking her head to herself, earning a queer look from a passing hobbit.
"Love is a base for disappointment, but the only thing that makes life worth living. It is a crutch, just as much as it is a hindrance. It dictates what we do, and why we do it, when we do it, where we do it. It's the driving force behind everything, even that which is the most sinister. Killers love to kill. It fuels them, like most love their husbands, wives, sons, daughters.. Their lives.. Love, is just life. It sums up every reasoning for our existence in one word."
Upon her route she paused at the bridge overlooking scholar's stair. This was the spot she remembered hearing her father's body found. Time has washed away the blood from the stone, but the memory of that day was still here. She kneeled down and spoke aloud, knowing no one was around to hear her.
"I loved my father. His death drove me to do what I do today. I think that's the point of love. To drive us. To push us. We naturally protect the ones we love, and will even sacrifice our own lives for their well being. There are many I would die for, but I still love living. Although.. Is dying for love, not the best way to go?"
She rose gently to her feet and examined her own hands, her entire body. She like any other person is fragile behind leather and iron. She's survived a lot, but she cannot forget that just like every other human being, she is mortal.
"I want my death, to inspire someone to live the best life they can. I know the meaning of life. Love is the only thing we are here for. The only thing we are meant to do, the one, true goal of humanity is to chase after what we love, no matter how outrageous it is, or how unlikely it is. Whether it is good, or evil, it is human nature. Love can be twisted and bent in various ways, but in the end, the word, the meaning, is the same."
With that she headed back towards the jail. It was late, and time for her shift to end.
"Everyone has the same purpose. There is no such thing as hatred, only a love for a dislike. Like the Pigborn, for instance. I Hate that instrument, but I absolutely love complaining about how much I hate it. Every killer I've perused, I hated them, but I loved the pursuit. I loved winning. That's just who I am."
After shedding her uniform, and replacing her common clothes, she gave a sigh. Instead of heading home, she headed for Combe.
