Warriors of the Heavens

Ayano was close to screaming in frustration and it was only two hours into the first day of her employment. Her pen was flying across the parchment at hyper speeds. These letters were to be delivered tomorrow, so she planned on going back and rewriting them at a slower pace to make the writing more legible and easier to read. As it was now the words were just scrawls on a paper with several words scratched out due to mistakes in spelling. Faster and faster she wrote and the smith just talked even faster.

Finally she couldn’t take it any longer, “STOP! Just stop! I can NOT write that fast!” she was exasperated and her hands were beginning to cramp into claws that couldn’t be used for writing. The smith just stared at her for a few seconds.

“Yes, I suppose we can take a small break…” he talked slowly while nodding his head. With a sigh of relief, Ayano leaned back massaging the cramped muscles in her hands back into their original positions. Carefully, she stood up and stretched popping several vertebrae and other bones and stretching out her muscles. She slid back onto the stool she sat in to write and carefully stacked the papers she had already finished on into one stack; she placed blank pieces in another stack and the paper she was still working on directly in front of her next to the pen she was using.

“Okay, let’s get back to work!” the smith stood back up and started dictating what she was to write and to whom it was being written to.

Ayano wrote and wrote all day long in much the same manner, taking only short ten to fifteen minute breaks because she yelled at the smith to stop. These breaks were normally punctuated by the apprentice giving her a dirty look and suggestive gestures followed by a sharp word from the smith and a cuff to the head.

Sighing in relief when the smith ended to day of work, Ayano dragged herself to the table of food he had set up for her and the apprentice. Greedily she grabbed what she thought a fair share and tossed her hair out of her face and behind the handle of the practice sword that she still carried on her back. The apprentice strutted into the dining area and sat in the chair opposite her in a very inappropriate slouch.

“What do you think you’re doing, you little bitch? You’re eating my share of the food!” drawled the apprentice in a dangerous tone. “I bet you don’t even know how to use that worthless hunk of metal on your back.” With an air of confidence, he reached out to grab food off of her plate instead of the evenly divided portions still left in the serving dishes.

Ayano reacted naturally: she grabbed his wrist, jerked him to his feet and had the blade drawn balancing the edge on his throat pressing just hard enough to send a small trickle of blood down his neck. “I divided the food evenly. If you don’t like it, don’t eat. As for my swordsmanship, it’s only fair to say that I could kill you in the time it took for you to blink.” Her tone was flat and her eyes were icy as she stared him down.

The apprentice fell back heavily into his chair when she let him go and didn’t say a word. Quietly he gathered the food she had left for him and ate as fast as his mouth would allow him. Ayano was sure the idiot was going to swallow the platters and silverware with the food as she watched the spectacle. He drained the cup of water the smith gave them for dinner and ran out of the dining area to hide under the covers of his bed.

As Ayano watched him leave her body began to shake with mirth. She burst out laughing, tears beginning to well in her eyes. She laughed and laughed until she lost her breath and had to stop to suck in several huge gulps of air. Calming herself, she scoffed the food that remained on her plate and began gathering the dishes. She poked her head through a nearby door to see a sink already filled with hot water and soap, a rag to wash the dishes and a rack to put them in to dry.

She dropped all the dishes in the sink. Humming quietly to herself she scrubbed the remnants of food and grease away, rinsing them thoroughly before placing them gently into the rack to dry. The smith’s wife was standing behind her smiling when she turned to go to her room.

“You know, dear, it’s not your responsibility to wash dishes.” The smith’s wife’s voice was clear and strong despite her age. She had to be at least sixty if the grey hair and wrinkles were to be considered.

Ayano bowed and apologized, “I am sorry if I’ve intruded. I thought it would be expected to clean up after ourselves.”

The wife laughed and raised Ayano's face by the chin, “You aren’t intruding dear. Most of my husband’s workers are too tired or too lazy to clean up after themselves. I do appreciate your help though.” She smiled and propelled Ayano out the door, “Tim for bed. My husband starts early!”

Ayano smiled and rushed off to bed and fell asleep as soon as her head touched the pillow.