Doves.
White as the most luminous pearl, their feathers soft and silky to the touch. These doves covered the cobbled ground like the verdant grass outside the arena, a sea of white twitching heads and black beady eyes. It was this view to which she walked into the silent ruins of the old coliseum, her father’s greatsword dragging slowly behind her. She took a few steps forward, breathed in deeply, and swung the massive beast with all her might, both hands on the grip. The doves ahead fluttered away, running from the danger, landing only a couple of meters further away. She used her momentum to throw her weight forward, dragging the greatsword from the cobbled ground and into the air. The sky above filled with the flitter of these radiant white beauties. She continued to walk, the doves parting for her as she dragged the huge weapon behind her. In the centre of the coliseum, the light shine into the coliseum from above, providing sunlight for a single flower that grew in-between the stones, searching for its light.
She fell to her knees and brushed her cheek against its soft petals. She lay the greatsword next to the flower, and pressed her hands together.
“My prayers, father. For the greatest gladiator, who was never given the opportunity to enter the arena. I will follow your legacy.” She bowed her head, allowed the few tears she had to fall, and stood. She turned and exited, leaving the greatsword jammed in-between the stones, behind the flower. The light poured into the coliseum behind her, and reflected wonderfully off of the old blade.
