She closed her eyes, remembering what had happened here. She remembered it like it was yesterday.

They had heard about people coming and taking land, but they didn’t think it would happen to them. It was well out of the way, not worth conquering. She had been nothing more than a child at the time, 13 years old. The Scout came in, bearing the grave news.

“T-they’re coming. At least 500 men. We-we can’t stop them.” The chaos ensued. They got all of those who couldn’t fight out. Led them to the mountains, or at least, they tried. In the chaos, they forgot her little brother. He was only a baby. As the big sister, she had felt responsible for him. She ran back, snuck back into the village, just as the invaders had gotten there. They came in screeching, inhumanly. She remembered trying to hide in her house, keep her brother quiet. She didn’t make it there. Instead she managed to hide in a hole in the tree. She saw it all. The men of her village had used furniture to barricade the way into the village. There was strategy, but it seemed like madness. Spears were thrown from both sides, and on both sides, men went down. Then flaming arrows went, and engulfed several homes in flames. The moaning of the wounded was almost too much for her to bear. Swords clashed with axes and pitchforks, and metal scraped against metal. Men screamed. Then she saw it. Her father was fighting 2 on 1. He wasn’t going to be able to defend them for long. I leave my brother near a bush, hidden away, and race into the battle. I picked up a large rock and threw it at the head of the soldier and he fell, allowing my father a moment of respite. He didn’t look to see where his savior had come from but continued to fight on. I picked up a small ax from a fallen soldier and faced the fighting. She snuck around, and stood behind her father, hoping he wouldn’t accidentally kill her. She slashed away cutting at the knees and arms of the invaders. She knew the people part because none of the villagers had armor. She found weak spots and exploited them. One of the soldiers went after her, but her father saw. With a cry of outrage, he threw his spear at the attacker, leaving him defenseless. She threw the spear back to her father, killing someone who was about to kill him. But the villagers were outnumbered. They were being slaughtered. She had been wounded when a villager fell on top of her, and she didn’t have the strength to pull him off. She heard the screams for a while until she was so exhausted, she fell asleep. When she woke, someone was shifting the body off of her. A woman looked onto her face.

“I found one, alive! She said turning to someone she couldn’t see. Then the woman turned to me. “Hey, kiddo. It seems you've been through a lot. Do not worry, no one’s going to hurt you anymore." She tried to sit up, and eventually managed it. There were several women with the bodies, helping prepare them for burial. One of them was holding a crying baby. It was her baby brother.

She shook her head to bring herself out of her memories. The Young warrior promised to never let something like that ever happen again. She made sure that there would be at least a handful of trained soldiers at each and every village, even in wartime. That the farmers would know what to do in emergencies. And she would start her academy here.