Wicked steel, green and deadly,
Chimed with disturbing rhythm,
John couldn't hear his thoughts, nor call upon song to aid him.
His voice was gone.
The other six performers stopped to witness a girl untouched by injury,
Emerge from the ruins of Toblin's carriage,
Seemingly unaware of the skirmish taking place,
Before her innocent, entitled eyes hidden behind a veil of lace held in place,
By a royal black coronet.