Warrior Princess

Statues and Visions (Part 2)

I went to the other room, and I began practicing my father’s sword. I tried out cutting motions with it in the air, trying to replicate the way the angel in the vision did it. She seemed to be teaching me what I was supposed to do, and I could feel it coming back to me. The sight was still disturbing, but the vision wasn’t quite as vivid anymore. I wasn’t sure whether the vision had been trying to warn me or if the actual scene had happened. I also wasn’t sure what it meant, if anything. I’m sure it was a warning from the kingdom of the angels, but that didn’t really explain the vision. It just didn’t make sense to me. I practiced a little longer and then went down to talk to my father, King Armin II. I felt him watching me.

“I’m practicing with my sword,” I said.

“How are you feeling?”

“I’m feeling okay.”

“Is something wrong?” He watched me as I took my sword and slid it into its sheath. “You seem... not quite yourself.”

“I’m fine, father.” I glanced back at the statue in the corner.

“We can talk about that.”

I sighed. “I was just thinking about the dream.”

“There was no dream.”

“It was a vision,” I said. I looked at him. “I was supposed to help them.”

“Who were you supposed to help?”

“A prophecy. They asked for help to save the kingdom of the angels.” I hesitated. “But it didn’t happen. I’m not sure if it ever will.”

He walked over to the window and looked out at the garden. “Maybe,” he said, “that’s just how things are supposed to go. Maybe the battle between good and evil has to happen.”

I didn’t know what to say. It sounded so pathetic, like he didn’t believe in magic. I just stared at him and said nothing.

“If there is a war to be fought,” he continued, “you are the one who will fight.”

“I don’t understand. I don’t want to.”

He sat down on the edge of the bed and put his arm around me. “You are the princess,” he said. “No matter what, you will always be my daughter.”

“I just…I’m worried,” I said. I didn’t know what else to say.

“I understand,” he said, “but you have a choice, Maria. Your mother would have made the same choice.”

I tried to push away his arm and get up, but he pulled me back down to the bed.

“I want to protect you,” he said. “I would do anything to keep you safe.”

I was silent.

“I’m sorry.”

He stopped talking and put his arms around me again. “I’m so, so sorry.” He kissed my forehead and then closed his eyes. “Sleep now.”

I closed my eyes and counted backwards from a hundred, a trick my mother had taught me when I first started to have nightmares. When I was sure he was asleep, I got up, walked over to the statue, and touched it. It wasn’t a surprise, but I had been hoping it was. The dream came true. I was there. I would be in battle. I tried to reassure myself as I went back to my room.

The next morning, me, my father, and three bodyguards traveled to where the battle would happen. I stood off to the side, not doing much of anything, while my father argued with some guards and knights. I glanced around at the other men with their swords in hand and found myself glancing back at the statue, hoping.

The king turned to me. “It’s your turn to fight.”

I raised my eyebrows. “Dad, I thought it was going to be you.”

“It is,” he said. “But you’re not going to kill your fellow men. The battle is for the kingdom. Don’t interfere.”

I looked back at the statue. It was getting dark out, and on only one side, I looked back at the statue. A small fire glowed on one side, but it was growing dark. I stepped back from it and waited.

“When the sun rises,” my father said, “we will march against these demons.”

I looked at my father. He nodded. I stepped forward and took the sword. My fingers glided over the leather straps, and the hilt felt smooth in my hands. I gripped it tightly and pulled it down in front of me. The clanging of metal sounded loud in the quiet, eerie woods. I looked around for something to help me fight. There were pikes lying on the ground, but I didn’t think I’d have much success fighting with one.

My father walked up to me. “If you are attacked,” he said, “you have to ignore your attacker and avoid the sword altogether.”

I nodded.

“When the demons attack,” my father said, “be ready to fight back.”

“Is that it?” I asked. I took a few steps back and scanned the surrounding area.

“No,” he said. “You have to retreat if you can’t keep up with the fight.”

My heart sank.

“There is one more thing,” he said. “You are to remain firm. If a knight attacks you, you must punch him right in the face or slice him with your sword. You are not to cry out. You should not hold back.”

“I’m no fighter,” I said. “I’m a—”

"Yes, you are,” he said. “You can do it. Fight back.”

“I won’t do it,” I said. “I don’t want to hurt anyone.”

“Your kingdom is under attack,” my father said. “You have been chosen.”

I gulped and shook my head. “I can’t. I won’t do it.”

“It’s not up to you,” my father said. “It’s up to your spirit.”

“My spirit?”

“Yes,” my father said. “If you feel like you have a strong spirit, you will prevail in this battle.”

I looked down at the ground. My father took a step forward and put a hand on my shoulder.

“When you make a choice,” he said, “you have to believe in it completely.”

I looked up at him. “I just don’t want to die.”

“You will not die,” he said. “Trust your instincts.”

He walked back to the men. I felt the sword in my hands. I closed my eyes and pictured a small, peaceful village in the forest. The only thing standing between me and the vision’s outcome was this sword. I went to war against the demons.

I didn’t even know what I was fighting for. I just knew I was going to do it.