Perpuchkan

A lost warrior, and the object of a quest

“If we do not speak of these complicated things we need not think of them, perhaps. Master learns his words more quickly than I, and learns something of the warrior and his background. And I consent to remain uncertain. I should have questioned more. But there is too much that is confusing about the warrior’s presence, for me. I feel it in my bones. I feel it in the blood that surges around my body whenever I am with him.

“You know what I feel, I think. Just as Master did. I remember the brush of the warrior’s lips against the tips of my fingers. And I can think of nothing else.

“I kneel behind him, on the bed, my damp cloth slipping over his chest, and under his arms, as I wash him. And I see what he is, and he is beautiful.”