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| Photo taken by Stephanie Nehme |
I breathe the salty air, the serenity, the scenery.
The hills beyond embrace the island like a mother holding
her child; I feel at home here. The earth, the air, the water, all in perfect
harmony and my fire to complement them.
We are all at peace together as we recognise one another,
though we know it is not often so. And still I have a task to fulfil, my
assignment, my kill.
I clean my swords and sheathe them, my daggers too; one in
each boot. Then my bow and arrow.
I enjoy the power that courses through me as I hold the
wood. I prefer old school, not the new metal ones with a lot of contraptions. The
old ones are more accurate; straight and to the point.
I feel the wind pick up; the water too is rising slightly. They
are becoming aggressive in response to my growing firepower.
It will be over soon and I can come back to enjoy this sight
alone once more.
Whoever said assassins have no taste for beauty; we have
taste, though perhaps not the time. Nature is where I belong, where my power
runs freely, where I can be me without prejudice or contempt. True, we are not
always on good terms, with water, air and earth but we have respect and that is
all that matters.
My eyes move to the mighty mountains before me. They seem to
beckon me, silently. I’ll get this over with and answer their call.
I look at the mirror briefly, pack my weapons, and adjust my
clothing. I turn to look at the calming scene one last time before I leave for
my assignment and my calling.
Let the fun begin.
My piece for this week's Takhayyal. Comments are highly appreciated and encouraged. There are two prompts this week, check them out here.
It is also part of a supposed work in progress; one that I should allocate more time to soon.
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