the yard. He had de the vents seenbsp; so fluid that Mulan had always assud the sword was light as a feather. But in her hand, it was heavy and awkward. As she tried to lift it straight in front of her, her eyes flickered over three words etched into the blade itself. Squinting, she read: LOYAL. BRAVE. TRUE.
As the on ved fronbsp; behind a cloud, the roonbsp; filled with white light. In that nt, Mulan caught her own reflection in the steel of the blade. As she turned the sword this way and that, her features changed. Her cheeks grew sharper, her eyes wider, her lips thinner. She looked like a different version of herself.
What was a hint of an idea began to grow. Why couldn’t she be herself—and soone else—at the sa ti? Why couldn’t she take her father’s place? She had everything she needed right there in front of her. She could be a soldier. She lowered her ar and stretched the sword out in front of her, her eyes as steely and strong as the weapon itself.
Mulan was no longer going to let others decide her future. She had tried to keep her prose to bring honor to her faly by parading in front of the Matchker. She had, for years, practiced her weaving. She had learned to be silent and rein in her wildest iulses. She had practiced pouring tea and de countless dinners. Yet no tter how hard she tried, she had always seed to fall short. So now she would bring honor to her faly in another way.
She would bee a warrior.
Holding the hilt of the sword in one hand and awkwardly carrying the arr under her other ar Mulan de her way back across the living roo Passing by her parents’ slightly open bedroonbsp; door, she could see her father’s face, stubborn even in sleep. Beside hi Li slept fitfully, worry creasing her forehead. Mulan wished she could wake thenbsp; and tell thenbsp; goodbye. She wished she could tell thenbsp; how ch she loved thenbsp; and how ch she wanted to ke thenbsp; proud and keep thenbsp; safe. But instead, she de her way upstairs.
Throwing a few things in a sll satchel, she hesitated in the doorway. In her sleep, Xiu let out a sll whier. A fierce wave of love rushed through Mulan. She knew that the nt she stepped out of their house, she would risk never ing back. Even if she was to survive the ar, which she very well ght not, her reputation was unlikely to survive what she was about to attet: pretending to be a n to fight a war she had no place in. She knew the odds were against her, but she also knew she couldn’t let her father go in her ste
As the on ved fronbsp; behind a cloud, the roonbsp; filled with white light. In that nt, Mulan caught her own reflection in the steel of the blade. As she turned the sword this way and that, her features changed. Her cheeks grew sharper, her eyes wider, her lips thinner. She looked like a different version of herself.
What was a hint of an idea began to grow. Why couldn’t she be herself—and soone else—at the sa ti? Why couldn’t she take her father’s place? She had everything she needed right there in front of her. She could be a soldier. She lowered her ar and stretched the sword out in front of her, her eyes as steely and strong as the weapon itself.
Mulan was no longer going to let others decide her future. She had tried to keep her prose to bring honor to her faly by parading in front of the Matchker. She had, for years, practiced her weaving. She had learned to be silent and rein in her wildest iulses. She had practiced pouring tea and de countless dinners. Yet no tter how hard she tried, she had always seed to fall short. So now she would bring honor to her faly in another way.
She would bee a warrior.
Holding the hilt of the sword in one hand and awkwardly carrying the arr under her other ar Mulan de her way back across the living roo Passing by her parents’ slightly open bedroonbsp; door, she could see her father’s face, stubborn even in sleep. Beside hi Li slept fitfully, worry creasing her forehead. Mulan wished she could wake thenbsp; and tell thenbsp; goodbye. She wished she could tell thenbsp; how ch she loved thenbsp; and how ch she wanted to ke thenbsp; proud and keep thenbsp; safe. But instead, she de her way upstairs.
Throwing a few things in a sll satchel, she hesitated in the doorway. In her sleep, Xiu let out a sll whier. A fierce wave of love rushed through Mulan. She knew that the nt she stepped out of their house, she would risk never ing back. Even if she was to survive the ar, which she very well ght not, her reputation was unlikely to survive what she was about to attet: pretending to be a n to fight a war she had no place in. She knew the odds were against her, but she also knew she couldn’t let her father go in her ste