• m. e. weyerbacher

Warrior Princess: A Short Story

She called herself a weak reed because she didn't know who she was.

Having struggled to speak up for herself, to stand her ground, this beautiful warrior found herself lost, bound with weights she couldn't escape from.

She crumbled in silence and trusted no one.

Seconds before death swallowed her whole, she opened her mouth for one last cry.

The cry of honesty beckoned winds of change, stoking embers kindled within--long forgotten but never fading though she couldn't see it then.

A few warriors found her and began tirelessly ripping off the false armor and dragging it away from her broken body.

The faithful kept watch and took turns replacing the faulty material, piece by piece.

After a time, the weak reed became stronger; nourished, believing, and determined.

Set on her feet, she joined the faithful warriors as they trekked together, crossing the horizon.

Battle-scarred but glowing, their shields told a story. It was only when they returned the same as they'd left, that the king ever questioned them.

He couldn't wait to hear their story and found it hard to sit still seeing the light gleam off their armor.

Instead of waiting, he met them, embraced them, and cried that his warrior princess had returned.

"We must feast and trade stories, then you can share them with the kingdom!" he declared.

The faithful exchanged glances, but she spoke up.

"I walked through fire and lived to tell. Who would believe such a thing?"

The king smiled and pushed a bountiful plate forward. "Those who also made it through."


This story is based on my journey through darkness, into the light. The photo below was taken in the thick of a hard season, and to honor my best friend Jesus today on Easter 2020, I wanted to write him this story. He rescued me (us) even when we didn't know we needed rescuing.

Photo credit: Margie Butler, Spring 2019

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