“Oh, okay,” she said as she looked down at the paper with pretend concentration. It was hard to ignore that Levi still had blood, dry now, on his face. Without glancing up from the parchment, she dug her hand into a pocket, hidden in the folds of her dress, and extended to him her personal handkerchief. Realizing his faux pas, he accepted it and sloppily wiped it away, leaving a small smudge behind. Sighing, the princess set the paper down and stood, grabbing the hankie from his hand. "You missed a spot," she commented. Her delicate foot took a step towards the captain, closing the gap between them in a single stride. After wetting the the fleecy cloth with her mouth, the princess cleared away the smudge and the remaining gore from his simple goatee, the captain watching her with fascination. Feeling his eye on her, Hataru stopped, her hands moving down to rest on his chest as her gaze gradually shifted upward. From his whiskered chin to his chapped, bruised lips, to his sculpted nose, and finally locked in his stare. Momentarily, they paused, studying the other in wonder. Coming to her senses, Hataru stepped away and turned her back to Levi, trying to hide her embarrassment. Snatching up the parchment, she said, “Well it seems to be a prophecy with a list of items that are supposed to be brought together to... well, I don't know what they’re supposed to do, but it has something to do with 'evil's endure.' I'm not sure what the rest of it means either... but let’s start from the top. ‘The Sharpest blade of darkest day.’ Obviously, it is some sort of weapon, but what do you think ‘darkest day’ means?” She looked up at him expectantly. The moment they had briefly shared was gone.
Slightly hurt by her hastiness to change the topic, but not willing to admit it, he went along, “Hmm. ‘Darkest day’ could be referring to the time at which the blade was forged or is to be used. Or it could indicate the blade's color, which would be black or maybe gray. What’s the next one?”
“‘Melodic notes to be played...’" She paused to ponder the line's meaning. "Could it be a musical instrument?”
“I think that sounds accurate enough, let me see the parchment,” he requested. Hataru handed it to him and walked around the cabin, eyeing the many trinkets scattered about. “‘A parent’s tale written by hand.’ That must be my father’s journal, still have no idea why they would want it..." He stared intensely at the written words, as if hoping that they would reveal their secrets. "What about ‘Needles that brush silky strands.’?”