There was once a large kingdom called Elysium. Perhaps ‘Elysium’ was too optimistic a name, the kingdom fought violent wars, but its people were content and maybe that’s what earned its name. But this story is not about Elysium.
In the heart of the kingdom lived King Arbertrus and Queen Verity. King Arbertrus, though courageous, was a misogynist. He did not treat the women of his kingdom with the same justice that he treated his men, and denied even the best of warriors a place in the army just for being a woman. But this story isn’t about him either.
This story is about the girl born to the king and queen. She was born with waves of jet black hair and a gurgling laugh. She was named Arya. If anyone had taken the time to look carefully into Arya’s bright hazel eyes, they would have seen an unusual ferocity, for she was to be the best and most capable warrior to ever be born in the kingdom. One day she would be queen... brave, kind and just. This is her journey.
Arya’s early life was a chorus of dancing, singing, sewing and other maidenly things that she was good at, but didn’t enjoy it. Her happiest day was her fifth birthday, when her baby brother was born. His arrival was greeted with more happiness than hers, but she loved him and did not mind. She did mind, however, when little Thomas started being taught how to fight. The princes of Elysium started training early on, to prepare for the Challenge.
This was a longstanding tradition during which the prince challenged the people of the kingdom to defeat him. If anyone won against him, they would replace him as heir, but it was really just a way to show the citizens that their future king was worthy. No one took the Challenge and if they did they always lost, because only the royals and soldiers received formal training to fight.
Arya’s annoyance stemmed from the fact that she found Thomas’ lessons much more interesting than crochet. She tried to stifle her desire to train with swords and javelins, but one day she couldn’t stop herself from entering the training room where Thomas was trying to execute a tricky move. She had been carefully observing his lessons and skillfully extracted the sword from his hand to try the maneuver. Much to her delight she managed it perfectly and was greeted by her brother’s claps and cheers. The trainer however was aghast and complained to the king who was very cross. She was warned never to touch a sword again for as long as she lived. We all want what we can't have, this only made her want to fight more.
One day, Arya, now eleven, was sitting in the library trying to get through a fat, dull book, when she heard a muffled sound from the back. She set her book down, frowning, and tiptoed to the back of the library, looking to see what the sound was. She was about to give up, when she felt a slim hand cover her mouth. She gave a shout and tried to dig her elbow into whoever was holding her, but it was caught tightly before it could connect. “Nice try, princess”, The voice was feminine and amused, “But you’re not good enough yet.” This infuriated Arya and she stomped hard on the woman’s foot. Her captor laughed, but released her anyway. Arya whirled around in fury, only to come face to face with a tall, fit woman, dressed like a warrior, with dark hair and laughing eyes. She had a sword at her hip and a long scar slanting across one cheekbone.
Arya’s anger dissipated. Elysium had never had a female warrior and she wasn’t going to miss the chance to meet one. But first, she glared and said, “You shouldn’t sneak up on children and hold them captive. It’s impolite.” The woman grinned, “Have I held you captive? You are free to leave.” Arya stayed where she was and decided to get straight to the point. “Who are you?” The woman pondered before saying, “I am Raina, the Lionheart. I am here to teach you to fight.” Arya couldn’t help but gape, but Raina seemed to take great glee in this, so she quickly rallied her wits and said, “Where are you from?” “The future.” “Whose?” “Mine.”
After a pause, Raina continued, “Now, I’m not going to waste your time or mine. Do you want to learn how to fight?” That took no thought, “Yes!” Raina smiled, “Well, then I’ll teach you. Every night.” And she kept her promise. Every day, after the sun went down, Arya would wait and wonder if today was the day Raina would stop coming. But she never did. To her great joy, Arya was a natural at sword fighting and with Raina’s help, she kept getting better until, one night, on her nineteenth birthday, she finally defeated Raina. That was the night Raina smiled and said, “You have learned all I can teach, now you must teach yourself. One day you will win, young Lionheart.” And laughing at some secret joke, she disappeared into the night. For three years, Arya practiced fighting, not sure what her goal was until Thomas turned seventeen. Until he stood on the battlefield, unhappy - for he never wanted to be a soldier, he was a strategist - and said “Who will challenge me?”
Arya answered, loud and deliberate, “I will.” The stunned crowd parted around her as she walked to face Thomas. She didn’t realise she was holding her breath until he smiled, open and honest. Her father wanted to stop the proceedings, but that would be going against the laws. So, the siblings faced each other on the battlefield and started. Arya knew she was going to win this fight from the beginning. Thomas was good, but not good enough. She fought with a new confidence and stood tall and proud when she won. The people’s cheers decided it. She would be next to rule Elysium. She would be queen and Thomas would be her advisor. The next few hours were full of festivities, her father’s wrath and her mother’s pride. It was only late in the night, when she regained control of her senses, that she noticed a throbbing cut on her face. It was slanting across her cheekbone and looked familiar. So familiar… Arya smiled. She had won.
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