Caesura, Kvothe’s Ademic sword
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Caesura, Kvothe’s sword
Then, slowly, she laid her hand on another sword with a blade of burnished grey. She lifted it off the wall, gripped it, and seemed to age ten years.
Vashet avoided looking at Shehyn, and handed me the sword. The guard of this one extended out slightly, curving to give a hint of protection to the hand. It was nothing like a full hand guard. Anything that bulky would render half the Ketan useless. But it looked as if it would give my fingers an extra bit of shelter, and that was appealing to me.
The warm grip settled into my palm as smoothly as the neck of my lute.
Before she could ask, I made Maiden Combs Her Hair. It felt like stretching after a long stiff sleep. I eased into Twelve Stones, and for the smallest of moments I felt graceful as Penthe looked when she fought. I made Heron Falling and it was sweet and simple as a kiss.
Vashet held out her hand to take it back from me. I didn’t want to give it up, but I did. I knew this was the worst possible time and place for me to make a scene.
Holding the sword, Vashet turned to Shehyn. “This is the one for him,” she said. And for the first time since I’d known my teacher, it was as if all the laughing had been pressed out of her. Her voice was thin and dry.
Shehyn nodded. “I agree.You have done well to find it.”
Vashet’s relief was palpable, though her face still looked somewhat stricken. “It will perhaps offset his name,” she said. She held the sword out to Shehyn.
Shehyn gestured: Refusal. “No. Your student. Your choice. Your responsibility.”
Vashet took the scabbard from the wall and sheathed the sword. Then she turned and held it out to me. “This is named Saicere.”
“Caesura?” I asked, startled by the name. Wasn’t that what Sim had called the break in the line of Eld Vintic verse? Was I being given a poet’s sword?
“Saicere,” she said softly, as if it were the name of God. She stepped back, and I felt the weight of it settle back into my hands.
Sensing something was expected of me, I drew it from its sheath. The faint ring of leather and metal seemed a whisper of its name: Saicere. It felt light in my hand. The blade was flawless. I slid it back into its sheath and the sound was different. It sounded like the breaking of a line. It said: Caesura.
Shehyn opened the inner door, and we left as we came. Silently and with respect.
IMPORTANT, READ THIS: This sword is for display only, and is not a toy. Please keep away from children, especially the pointy part, but it’s heavy, too.
35 inches, 1040 high carbon steel, antique patina
Antique brass plated handle parts, genuine leather grip