Amulets

You can guard the eyes, the ears or the mouth, but something is always exposed. Our neckrolls protected us from the hardest hits. They pumped up the silhouette of our traps, they kept the borders of our helmets from being pressed into our chests and our spines from being snapped sideways. But as we put on more gear, we took on bigger risks. The more armor, the more hubris. We rushed into battle wearing our brightwork, only to find that our enemies have been starving themselves to slip their bodies beneath our breastplates. What they lacked in muscle they’ve toned in speed — an offense at terminal velocity, twisting what we thought indomitable. For all the energy that goes into our uniforms, they are still amulets; with all the protective power of fools dumb enough to believe in them.