"What did you want to tell me?" I asked Maven.
We stood under the widow tree. The leaves blew in the wind as they hid us from the world. Maven stood before me, looking at the ground, not once in my direction. His sword was in his belt. The silver sword that reflected the face of whoever it faced was hidden beneath the solid black hilt.
"I didn't leave my family like the others did. They were taken from me."
He stopped to take a breath. I stood back and listened.
"I remember that day clearly. My father was pushing me on the swing he made with his own hands. My mother hunched over her sunflowers as they sprouted from the ground. "Jump! Jump!" my father would yell. So I did. From the highest the swing could go, I jumped out of the way of the sword. The sword that my father pushed himself into to save me. The sword that cut his head clean off. I- I couldn't do anything. I didn't even see the person who did it."
