A/N: I wrote this a while back ago, inspired by several different conversations that I'd had with people. If you haven't already noticed, I like symbolism, especially in my oneshots. There's just something pleasing to me in a short story that depicts the human struggle and hope. But part of me is actually a little hesitant to post this one, maybe because I know it's not necessarily my best work. So review and let me know what you think!
Everyone is dying. The battle is being lost. What can I do? I am but one girl, not even a warrior. I am simply a weak princess who wishes to defend her land. The evil wizard is trying to take over, quickly winning the battle. His dark forces are much too strong for us. I have only one option. I must take him down myself.
I know that I am weak. I know that I am powerless. But I have to take him down. I must try and fight! I have little power in me, much less than normal people here. I'm a princess, for goodness sake! I am a pathetic excuse for a warrior, a pathetic excuse for a princess.
I run through the battlefield, defending myself against the evil soldiers. I am nearly overwhelmed. My arm is bleeding. Maybe if I could weaken him only a little, someone else could finish him off. Someone nearly stabs me in the stomach. I leap out of the way, but there is a huge gash in my abdomen. I should be able to survive…I must stay alive long enough to finish the evil wizard! Wound him at the very least!
I face a large soldier who is guarding the wicked man. He grins, bearing gray, fuzzy teeth. They really ought to take better care of themselves over in the Dark Realms.
He raises his sword above his head, ready to strike me down. I raise my sword to block him in fear. I cry out in fear. I shouldn't even be out here! But I want to help. I want to help my kingdom!
The guard raises his sword again. Before he strikes, I close my eyes and stab him through the heart. So. Much. Blood. I don't know if I can handle it. Elethia, the real warrior princess involved in the battle has killed so many soldiers, so easily, so fearlessly. She wants to be here, she longs for the fight. She could defeat the evil wizard easily. I'm so weak…she should be right here, not I.
I run up to the evil wizard, his dark eyes glinting with surprise and arrogance. He does not see me as a threat. I do not blame him. I would not consider myself a threat either.
"So, you have finally gained the courage to face me? Ha. They send the weakling to face the most powerful man in the world. You don't have any powers, do you? No magic, no hope of ever winning," he taunts. I'd love to shake my head, answer that I am so powerful. But I am not. I am myself, a weak little princess. All I have is my tiny flame that dances around me. It doesn't do much except look beautiful. That's all I seem to be good for.
"I can still face you. I want to help save my kingdom! If that costs me my life, then so be it," I replied. I am surprised at this burst of courage, although deep inside, I know it's always been there. The wizard snickered, raising his black sword to strike me. I dodged a few blows before he started using pain spells on me. So. Much. Pain. Agony. Why me? Why now? This was a foolish decision. I've hardly touched the wicked man.
Something stirs inside of me. My vision from so long ago. Everyone had their vision. It is something personal, something beautiful. Some choose not to follow it. I had forgotten mine. Until now.
Yverra, you have the gifts you have for a reason. You are who you are for a reason. Have faith, child. In faith, you shall discover your true abilities. Do not doubt.
I finally understand my vision. I know what I have to do. The Giver of Visions. Trust Him. He gave me my gifts, my apparent weakness, my tiny green flame. I close my eyes, summoning the small green fire I had inside of me, praying to the Giver to make me strong. The fire grows and grows.
I know I am glowing green. That is about as much as I can do. But I have to have faith. Faith in the Giver of Visions. Faith in my abilities, the ones that He gave me. My fire grows bigger. I am able. In the Giver I am strong.
The Wizard shrieks as my green fire reaches him. He raises his sword one last time and plunges it into my chest before bursting into green flames and disappearing into dust. I collapse onto the ground, yanking the sword out of my chest. I lie on the soft ground. So much blood: mine. I've never liked the sight of blood. At least I fall fighting. My breath is short. My vision is going black. The tide of the war seems to be changing. I killed him. It doesn't matter that I am dying now. Everyone else will be safe. Elethia will make a wonderful warrior queen someday. Father will rule the kingdom in peace. This really is for the best; deep inside, I know it is. My life for everyone else's. I smile. Just the way I've always wanted. As I breathe my last breath, I hear a sweet and melodic voice.
Well done, my daughter. You had faith.
Shimmering figures stand before me. My teacher was right; the Giver does send His angels to you. I cannot stop smiling. The angels are so beautiful! I surrender my soul to them.
Death is a sweet release.