Petition to the SwordMaster
Writer Author Teresa Johnson
Christian Article
:
Other
- Fiction Yes
Source: Eph 6:10
He is Risen, Peace be to the Brethren, and Greetings SwordMaster,
Having journeyed far in this world one would hope my answer would be assured, but alas I can not trust to hope. After careful consideration of my tale, only then would I have you judge my query. I come to you not a whole warrior, I am tarnished in a way that for a warrior means death. My hope is that you will accept this warrior for further apprenticeship.
My handmaiden left after rumors of no substance began to circulate among my common peers, that is to say that my fellow shield maidens knew naught of the talk. The handmaiden could no longer countenance her own reputation being besmirched in such a way, in hindsight I can not find fault with her actions. She left to find a more stable position with a warrior of some standing with the King.
Now I have never been one to swear fealty to any liege lord as they are too likely to make war on another that I have no quarrel with, but understanding the benefits of such an oath comes with time, such as I have now had. I have had time in these last months to mourn the loss of such a bright handmaiden as well as reflect on the counter balances of such an oath and I am now prepared to swear fealty to the right liege. With your help as my Sword Master perhaps such a binding would be pleasing to the King. I digress.
The rumors themselves had no basis in truth and I paid them no heed, that it seems was my first mistake. While I did nothing to cause the fears of the people in my village I did nothing to assuage them either. As most everyone knows if you hear something many times with no one to refute the tale even with no evidence supporting the tale it will be taken as fact. Unfortunately as I listened to the people talk I spoke no word in my own defense, my feeling at the time was that the tale was so far fetched as to be unbelievable by even the youngest simpleton. I, in my horror, was wrong.
Finally the atmosphere in the village became so strained and snappish I took myself on a journey. The journey was to be my grand adventure, I felt I needed one perhaps even deserved one. My honor and name had been ravaged by, in my opinion, lesser beings and there was nothing left for me in my village, so I struck out on my own. I took my armor with me and one bag besides. Most familial ties were severed save that of my mother, I had no use for most of my blood kin as they had never done anything for me save bring me more hardship. So being of arrogant temper I left just as the leaves were beginning to bloom.
At first I did not feel the lack of a handmaiden, I did not notice as I lost my shoes, though they were the first of my armor to become lost or broken. I walked by day mostly, until I happened upon traveling companions that walked in the evening.
I must say the heat was much more bearable in the shade of the evening. I tarried with them a while in a village seemingly made for evening type folk. I had been there for about a season when more travelers came through the village seeking only a moments rest. I admit curiosity and a strange need to continue my journey led me to befriend these strange new travelers. One night before we left for our continuing journey I was set upon by ruffians. It was then that I realized that I had grown complacent and had not pulled my sword even once during my stay in the Evening Village not even to practice. The sword felt awkward and unwieldy in my hands and in the end I could not properly defend myself. In my horror I fell to these thieving men.
It was after the attack that I picked up my cloak, wearing it as my protection in light of my newfound awkwardness with the sword. When the new travelers decided to move on I left with them. We traveled at night under the cover of darkness. I packed my belt away as it rang with the truth of our position on the road and stealth would be lost. I wore my cloak continuously until it became habit. It became my sanctuary, my hiding place during the worst of the storms. I would strap my shield tightly to my back as to always have it with easy reach but under my cloak so as not to be seen. Carrying a shield might have made me a target and as we were traveling by night I was most concerned with meeting up with more of the sort that had injured me before.
When we reached the Dark Village where these travelers called home it became apparent that if I wished to stay with them I had to pack away my breastplate. It evidently was most unseemly to be seen wearing it around town and I must admit without a proper handmaiden attending me the thing was tarnished and broken in several spots. By this time the darkness of the journey and the town had quite enhanced my fears and even when I wore my breastplate you could not see it for the cloak.
I made a place for myself there, in the Dark Village and for many seasons lived a quiet life. I had almost forgotten the Day Village that I had come from. Then one night as I lay sleeping a dream came to me. In this dream the King was opening his gates to His loyal vassals and many of my warrior peers bid me enter. As I walked to the gate His personal guards stopped me, they said that He did not know me and that I could not enter into His Kingdom. I told them that I was one of His warriors and that His was the only loyalty that I had ever swore. They could not recognize me though wrapped in the cloak as I was. I thought for a moment and finally said that His crest was on all of my armor and that was only given to His warrior. They bid me to show them this armor if I had it. I immediately reached for my sword only to realize that I had given it at the gate of the Dark Village as a showing of my intent to not harm the villagers. My belt had been packed up for so long that I could scarcely recall where I had put it, my shoes had been gone for quite some time. My breastplate was so tarnished and broken you could not see the crest. I was crying by the time that I realized I didn’t have a clue were my helmet was. The worst part was that my cloak was drawn so tight around me that while I had my shield with me I could not release it. My mother cried as she passed me, she walked with her head held high through the gate. She looked good in her sparkling gold armor. The guards looked genuinely sorry as they closed the gate, yet close them they did. And I was on the outside.
As you can imagine when I woke the next rising I felt the need to find my armor. As I began to gather the bits together the folk of Dark Village became restless and I felt unwelcome. It took another season before my plans to leave could come to full fruition, but come together they eventually did. It seemed that during that season my cloak grew longer and I pulled the hood down lower every time I had to go into the village proper, I didn’t want to be seen. Desperately I wanted my sword back yet every time I went to retrieve it the atmosphere in the village was even blacker than normal and I would pull back into my cloak to wait out the night.
When I had my traveling plans ready I left in the morning when the rest of the village would just be laying down. I did not walk out the same way I walked in, I put the Evening Village and the Dark Village to my back and walked into the sun.
The very next rising as I came upon a small village a servant met me just on the outskirts of the town. I thought he would bid me enter, but instead he just look at me for a while. Then he spoke. He said that retraining to be a warrior was twice as difficult as the first time. That I would need to learn to forge my armor for myself that while I could make use of the teachers there in the town I would need to do all of the work myself. I finally glanced over my shoulder at the way I had come and I realized that all these seasons I had been living in the land of my Kings enemy. I, one of the Kings warriors had lived among them for so long and yet I had nothing to show for it. I had not even tried to bring one of them with me. In fact many of the travelers that ended up staying in the Dark Village were first welcomed by me. I had betrayed my King. Instead of showing those travelers the way through to the Day Village I had smoothed the way into the Dark. As my shame grew I turned back to the servant, he wore the crest of my King proudly upon his vest.
He knew my shame I am sure. I threw the ragged remains of my armor down at his feet, he could not miss the fact that they bore the same crest as his and yet he smiled. As he bid me welcome he removed my cloak, the knot that I had tried so hard to untie fell beneath his fingers. He laughed at my astonishment, and merely said that the King did not like cloaks of that sort. He made sure that I knew it was not his doing that had undone the knot, the King had gifted him with deft fingers. If I had not taken it upon myself to leave the Dark Village he would not have been able to remove it, so really I had made the first step in its removal. As we walked deeper into the town I felt the weight of the cloak missing from my shoulders and the fear returned. I stumbled. The servant was there before I could so much as strike my toe upon a stone, helping me. He pulled a helmet from a bag I had not previously noted and said the King had wanted me to have it and that all I had to in order ! to receive it was become a warrior once again.
So you see Sword Master, my petition is this. I have received my helmet of salvation from the King, I am hammering away at my new breastplate of righteousness everyday, I have donned my belt of truth once again, and I have thrown off the cloak of fear so that others might see my shield of faith. I must learn to once again weld my sword, only then will I feel able to wear my shoes of peace. I can practice my swordsmanship alone but only with help will I be confident enough to pledge my oath and become a hand maiden in my own right. It is the dream of every shield maiden, every warrior for the King wants to eventually become a hand maiden, to help another warrior bear their armor, to help fashion another warrior for the King.
I have come full circle in my grand adventure and I am humbled in a way that I would not have been if I had not traveled, so I can not regret the path that I have walked. I pray that one day I will be able to accept the forgiveness the King offers and be able to forgive myself for living with the enemy. This is my tale Sword Master and while I kneel to the King in fear and trembling awe, I kneel before you in humble respect. Teach me to weld the Sword of the Spirit so that I might teach another.
He is coming, Grace be to all, Your Sister in the Kingdom Shield Maiden
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About the Writer Author
State:
Alabama
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United States
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t_renee_johnson@yahoo.com
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