The vast expanse of sun-scorched hardpan was once again set ablaze by the shimmering orb ascending from behind the long ridges cresting the horizon in the East. The cloudless sky looked aflame with the sunrise, too. Inside the point helicopter, the squad of warrior monks was busily readying their fighting gear for the day’s raid. Some tightened the leather straps on the patches of armor covering their chests and shoulders. Others double-checked the firing mechanisms on the multi-shot crossbows resting in their laps, oiling their springs, nuts, and levers, or testing the bowstrings. Most of them carried swords; a few carried battle-axes—double-bladed hacking weapons designed to cut through wood and iron alike. Clad in the black Jesuit cassock, Father Elano slid a whetstone over the blade of his broadsword. The faint grind of the hone caressing the steel was barely audible, as the dull thumping of the propeller’s blades drowned out any other noise inside the cabin. From the glistening surface of the blade, a man stared back, and for a few moments Elano didn’t recognize himself.
What do You think about Runaway Nun (Misbegotten)?
