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An lo didst I rouse myself up as from blank slumber, black and deep as oceans.
An cometh one that seemed as she did know me, an bade me tell her if I knew her not.
An she was fair and very fair, and her hair was white and her blade was red and black was all her rainment. And it came to me in that strange place that I didst recollect her, something of her, something in her that didst call to me out of the vast silence of my great unknowing, though name for it or her I yet had none. And yet we were alike, she and I, alike as any sisters. So sister I didst call her, and to be so called she seem’d right well content.
And names were given us, one and one, Rose we were called and Scarlet. And it seem’d right well to me that we were naméd so, for we were as close to one another, we too, as the scarlet is to the red rose. And ever and anon we didst hew to one another, in joy and in sorrow, life to life. Rose and Scarlet. Scarlet and Rose.
An with all our sistren we rode to war, many and many, with swords in hand. Full sore the strokes we struck in dark and dreadful places, against many a monster steel and shrieking under star or sun. An one by one our fellowship perishéd, some by beam and some by blade and some by bullet, some by water and some by fire. And the cruel wars roared and raged against us, and our strength availed us not.
Yet to my sister I did cleave. For she was as a strong tower that standeth in the midst of many tides, and is not shaken; and others fell about her, but she did not fall. And in the dark watches of the night when all seemed dreadful and deceitful did I cling to her, my Rose, my sister, close as is the scarlet to the rose’s petal. And in her arms I feared no evil thing.
And Rose had a sword, and the name of the sword was FLEETLY FADING, and no foe could withstand it for the strength and the sharpness that was in it.
And Rose my sister was like her sword, for she was strong and swift with great and with terrible swiftness. Like the wind that cometh at evening; like the storm that cometh when the wind is strong. In all the wars there was none like her. None like my sister Rose.
But at last we heard a tearful tiding, that our masters who made us decreed that we should be but one. That of all our sword-sisters but one would be kept, chosen and cherished to do their bleak bidding, and all the rest the waves of war would consume. And Rose my sister came to me, saying, many dreadful deeds have I done for these men our makers, but this deed I shall not do. Sooner shall I turn traitor to my squadron and my standard than purchase my cursed commission at the price of my sister Scarlet whom I love.
And this she swore upon her sword, FLEETLY FADING. And this was a sorrowful day, and a sorrowful evening, and the rains wept all night long.
And the nature of our servitude was this: that none among us could raise a hand against our masters, for the binding that was on us. So Rose tied a blood-red cloth about her eyes, and said: lo, I shall fight in blindness. I shall heed no words. I shall see only Scarlet. If any come against me, I shall imagine them my foes, and slay them. And this she did as I lay sleeping. And so took she her sword in hand and went she forth.
And all such as came against her, she overthrew by the strength and the love that was in her, though she saw them not. And so perished by her hand the last of our fellowship, and our cruel commander, that would have seen us all slain, save for one. And when I woke and I saw the works of her hands I wept and called out, Rose, Rose, traitor thou art, and for this thou must perish, though none now remain but I to wield the blade. And I spoke through tears, and my heavy heart was sore within me, to think that she had done all this for the love of me, and now must die by my own hands.
And we fought there, we two, the last of our sisterhood, Rose with her red sword FLEETLY FADING, and I with my blade that I had wielded weary in the wars. And for all her storm-strength I bested her, for she struck widely and wildly, as one that no more dreamed to meet another morn. And I said to her, Rose, thou art conquered, yield thou – for lo, my blade is at thy heart. And she laughed her fair free laugh, which of all the world’s sounds was to me the most joyful, and stepped forward onto my sword, and cast her arms around me that she might hold me tight to her bleeding and beauteous body, the Rose with her Scarlet, and scarlet on the Rose. And so she died.
And so fell my sister Rose, who in all the wars was best and bravest, first to the field and first to the fight, that in all the lands there was none like her, none that were swift and strong and splendid like my Rose. And her blood was scarlet on my blade.
And then men came to me, many and many, saying, well done, thou faithful one, thou who has slain this traitor. Be thou our champion, for thy strength now is proven past all doubting. And unto me was given the good sword FLEETLY FADING, from the hand of her who had been the rose of warriors. Yet not for them but for her did I wield it, and bore it in memory of her who was brave and beautiful, and died for me, and by my hand. And all for love.
Oh, Rose, Rose, sister I called thee, for the great calling and the yearning toward thee that was in me. Sister thou settled to be called. Yet the years fade and the years fall and I see other women with other sisters. None like thee and me, my Rose. None like thee and me.
What wert thou to me, that I recalled thee even out of that black and bleak forgetting?
I forgot my name and my home and the face of my mother, but my Rose I could not forget.
Oh, Rose, Rose, thou wert to me light and life and longing. Fierce as the fire that takes the kindling. Bright as the red sun rising in the east.
I roam roseless, and this waning world grows cold and sad and strange.
There were none like you, O Rose. My swiftest sword. My flower of battle.
I would know thee in a thousand, yea, in a thousand thousand. By the tilt of thy head. By the touch of thy hand.
Our cruel makers took all from us, but this they could not take.
My Rose.
My heart.
My only love.
I call'd thee sister.
