( She finally looks up at him, fixed behind pinched eyebrows, withdrawn little breaths. )

We swore never to lift blades, to break the sacred accords of St. Loe which laid waste to the shores of others.

( The words that were repeated at the sink of the shoreline, where grass turned to sand. A line of children all in a row, repeating words in soft words, over and over again. Learning the ancient story, repeating ancient oaths. ]

We are children blessed of sea, the children of St. Loe, we swear to be in peace as long as we are left.