Standard disclaimer applies.

A/N: 100 words – drabble.

±Coat of Arms±

by ChaosD

Horizon curves up - a cloudy cup in his hands. The wind doesn't ever dry up, chosen skilfully by someone who's yet to decide whether her treasures are counted already.

Man with hair of the colour of seaweed sleeps through the salty sun. (Better for him. The body adjusts to the mind's habit of being slashed over and over.)

He dreams of his swords, of the hard-kept steel: sea's entropy is rapacious. However, it's so hard to keep still, even sleeping: droplets sting, focusing the downpour of light and heat.

But heir to the throne laughs: the blades won't corrode.

±owari±