“Do you know what I really miss seeing since I have been here?” she asked Linvin.
“There is only one thing?” Linvin answered with a laugh.
She chuckled before answering, “Alright Captain Sarcasm, you know what I mean. I miss seeing the sky. At home the sky just seemed to go forever. When there were clouds, they were always so high and distant. When the sun would set, brilliant hues of peach, yellow, red, silver and a host of other colors painted the sky like an ever-changing canvas. Every sunset was a spectacle to see. As much as I enjoyed watching them, I do not think I really appreciated their majesty until I no longer had the opportunity to view them.”
“I too have seen my share of gorgeous sunsets,” Linvin agreed. “One would think the sunrises would be as marvelous. Perhaps they were. For me, though, sunrise usually involved trepidation on my part. It often signaled the start of a march, or battle. More recently it meant the beginning of another day of a journey into the unknown.”
“That’s not a very positive way to see something so wonderful,” Miri noted.
“I suppose,” Linvin answered. “Many times it seems one’s perspective is colored by the end of the sword they see before them.”
Miri added to his thought, “Or perhaps it is colored by the fact that you see every day involving a sword?”
Linvin’s voice strengthened and he spoke with pride. “I did not choose the road I have traveled. Nor have I shirked the responsibilities given to me. Someone must hold the sword and fight so others can view sunsets. For a time I was ashamed of my past. Now I see it was simply part of my training for a greater purpose. I only hope I have the opportunity to finish my mandate.”
Miri felt guilty for her ignorant statement. She struggled to find the words to make the situation right once again. “I know we agreed not to divulge too much information in here,” she said. “Whatever your goal may be, I hope you attain it.”