My sixteenth birthday.
It's when we first we met.
Gangly, rough-and-tumble, 
extroverted, teenage girl.
Strong, elegant, polished, regal, 
silent, stranger.
Different personalities. 
Inhabiting the same world.
Opposites attract.
Inseparable from day one.
We're testament to that.
Year after year, good times and bad.
Many I call friend, but a more loyal
one, I have never had.

My mother introduced us.
Be good to him, she said.
Love him, care for him, she said.
Today you become a woman, she said.
Be a good wife.
The day will come, she said.
When he will save your life.

Inexperienced at first.
Observed others, practiced often, 
and learnt quickly.
Two years later, riding into my
first battle, he was right there beside me.
Seems like yesterday.
The deafening noise.
Shouts and screams.
Grunts and moans.
Steel ringing off steel.
Sweat and blood in the air and
on the ground.
Patches of red.
Bright and dull.
My first kill.
Feigned left, then we opened up her skull.

Every occassion.
Many occassions.
We watched people laugh.
Watched them suffer.
Watched them cry.
Watched them smile.
Watched them worry.
We watched them die.
Every occassion.
Many occassions.
Him and I.

Gave birth to my first child today.
He's not her father, but he was there.
Didn't say anything, didn't have to.
His presence alone allayed much of
the pain and the fear.
He's my rock.
My soulmate.
My slave.
My master.
Ever-present.
Never heard.
Always ready.
Never bored.
El Diablo

He's my sword.