Work Text:
She doesn’t remember how it started, but she remembers how it ends.
She said, “one wins through either power or honor, and only one brings true victory”, as she effortlessly disarmed her; she spoke with conviction, wielded with control. Her demeanor demanded as much respect as her sword, yet she could afford the luxury of relying only on words.
Here’s what she knew about honor:
One: She was too choleric to wear it properly.
(She looked for it anyway)
“If you stand up, I will teach you to shine without burning.”
Two: It’s too easy to boast about virtue with clean hands from a throne.
(Not everyone fights for the rights bestowed upon them from birth,
but she did)
“… I will follow you.”
Sanae didn’t extend her sword, didn’t make her kneel before her, didn’t claim ownership on her loyalty. She simply called her to her side. Her offer cast a shadow, and it outlined a path.
(She’d follow it to the end of the world, she decides.)
There’s no salvation and there’s no redemption for those who wage war, but she follows the oath on her sword nonetheless — Inter lutum duro mundus, “I carry myself cleanly through the mire.”
“We fight to protect”, Sanae reminds her as she steps forward to confront the eyesore of predatory smile before them. “Mai”
She knows. Her queen conquers for everyone but herself.
“Let me carry your will”, she says, already reading her blade.
Here's what Mai knows: There’s no god in the battlefield, but there’s goddesses.