At the hot forge, I thought of her face frozen in time... a perfect oil painting, every stroke, every colour ... so serene as she fell, the wind dancing around her dress and hair, momentarily turning her into an angel, then the crack of water breaking apart to let her descend into the depths of the sea, disappearing forever from sight.
Unfortunately not all of us can pass away so gracefully, I thought as the memory slowly faded back into the dark crevices of my mind. 'OI! Git back to work, we need those spearheads by tonight!' Arok yelled noticing my frozen expression. Snapping back to reality I looked down at the metal that had to be shaped. I must have been out of it for at least a few minutes because the metal had gone warm. Muttering to myself I shoved it back into the forge.
As I finished sharpening the final spearhead memories started flooding back again, the flash of a silver dagger, a look of terror and then... her shocked look up at me. The memory Surrounded me like a dark cloud, her face staring deep into my very being, reminding me, not letting me forget, that I had failed.
Returning to the bitter memory I felt I was no longer in the forge, I felt as if I myself was freefalling into the kraken's mouth. I remembered, my duty... I had failed. I had been bested by the one I was given to protect her from, not keeping my guard, not maintaining my vigil. A quick slash across my chest and she was down, but as she fell, the serenity overtook her, transforming her back into that angel.
By Ben Jones
Ben Jones is part of the Year 12 Hagley Community College Creative Writing class.
Over the coming weeks we'll be featuring more works from the students here on the Bunker Notes blog.