The Creatures that History Forgot
from the ground with a mighty heave, a feat of great strength that everyone present observed.
Many of those assembled began muttering to themselves when my mother spoke.
“I am more than capable of completing my duties for my devotion to the people is greater
than…” Mother began when she stumbled forward, wincing as a wave of pain caught her off
“What if you can’t? What are we expected to do in the event of your failure? She
questioned as everyone looked to my mother for answers, but she didn’t provide them with
“I will deal with that situation when I must.” my mother answered as her challenger
continued to advance dragging the blade behind her as everyone watched her stunned into a
state of inactivity. Even the guards were conflicted as she neared. They did not force her to
drop the blade they simply watched her as she neared their leader. There was something
haunting about her vivid blue eyes, something unsetting about the intention they concealed
within thei r depths.
She raised the blade then pointed it at my mother’s chest as the guards stared at her
unresponsively as if they tempora rily forgotten their sworn duty to protect the royal family at
the cost of their lives. A few of them bared their teeth with displeasure but they were
otherwise frozen just like everyone else, waiting for the challenger’s next move. Dabu stepped
forwa rd as his anger slipped through his clinched teeth with a hiss.
“Oops that is not the proper way to return one’s blade. I would hate for it to cut you.” She
stated as she flipped the blade over in her hands then presented the handle to my mother. My
mother snatched it from her hands before turning away.
“Of course not your majesty” she said coolly but she did not bow as expected or even
lower her ears or tail out of respect.
“I have had enough of this, lead the way home.” Mom said as the guards nodded then
After we got home and all of the guards left to patrol the area and the Death Stalkers to g et
some rest after completing thei r mission, we were left alone. My mother striped off her robe as
the servants prepared a tub to clean her wound. My mother’s ears drooped with exhaustion as
she let herself fall onto all fours. She took a few steps forward wincing, her movement stiff and
painful. She was no longer an unfeeling warrior but simply a creature in a great deal of pain for
she had stripped away her ferocity and brevity leaving nothing more than my mother in need to
help I could not provide. She was a warrior yet being a warrior simply meant donning a certain
tempera ment in the presence of the public only to reveal flesh and bone in the privacy of one’s
own house. Being a warrior is a temporary mindset that conceals the mortal fearful beings we
all are. It is separate entity from who we are yet defines how others see us, like the royal robes
I was forced to wear.