For a long time, I chose to run, for death followed at my back. The people hunting me once called me their friend. Now, when they draw their blades, they call me 'murderer'.
One by one, they find me.
The first was a swordsman of strength renowned throughout Ionia. When we were young, I saw him cleave a tree in two with a single swing of his blade.
But he could not cleave the wind.
The second was a warrior of speed and grace. Agile and cunning, she outran the clever foxes in the woods.
But she could not outrun the wind.