The Little Wolf

The Most Powerful Weapon

The Stormlands

She constantly felt she was dancing with Death. The moves were actions she was unaware of, and though she tried to learn, she stumbled hard.

She was fighting a battle no one knew anything about, and that, perhaps, made her stronger than anyone. She could break. She could fall to her knees and yield. She could accept defeat and beckon Death so that they could dance together forever. Yet, she never did. She was far stronger than she gave herself credit.

No words other than "there is no such thing as mercy" and "vicious little monster" never left her lips, yet they were getting close. She tried hard to say the names of her Direwolf, her Soul or her family, yet they never made it.

"What do you think is the most powerful weapon in a battle?" Kaelo posed to her one day during their training. Lyra was developing speed with her stick, but she still found herself hit frequently, fresh welts and wounds appearing each new day.

Lyra, still silent, nodded toward Wolf.

"Wrong" Kaelo replied quickly, offering a quick whip to the shin, causing her to wince, "try again".

Next she nodded toward Toothpick, Kaelo's own long sword.

"Wrong", Kaelo snapped, and Lyra felt the stick crack again her arm this time. She steadied her own stick, playing the part of a sword, in her own hand and tried to swing it at Kaelo. He was too fast, and yet again, she was hit. He was too good, and she was far too slow. She was knocked to the ground, and with a painful gasp she threw her hands in the air and surrendered.

Another strike hit her.

"Have you got the answer yet, Ser?" Kaelo asked Lyra's swollen body.

It hurt. She felt so pathetic. She felt she simply could not improve. Once again, she surrendered. This time she made it more obvious - she pulled a piece of loose white cloth from her stolen shirt and held it in the air. She knew nothing of armies surrendering in battle, except that a white flag was the symbol.

Her arm was hit was Kaelo, and she dropped the flag.

The man didn't say anything, instead his eyes bore into Lyra's and she knew he was asking her to still answer.

She could not surrender. She was weak, and that was all she wanted to do, but she couldn't. Once more, she felt torn.

In her lost state, the stick hit her again, and she sunk even further to the ground. Her eyes lifted to meet Kaelo's - they were still somehow full of love and kindness, but there was desperation in his furrowed brow to get her to answer, to get her to understand.

"Get up", Kaelo said softly.

Ever so slowly, Lyra began to move her sprawled little body on the ground. She reached her arm for the white flag, but she was whipped again before it could be grasped in her scarred hand.

"Get up", Kaelo said again, enunciating his words clearer and with a hint of anger in his tone.

The pain wasn't excruciating - she had experienced much worse - but it was hard to rise when she knew she would fall immediately after. She felt tears dribble down her cheeks, and she lay bruised and bloodied on the ground, raising the white flag of surrender as if she was going to be beaten down again.

"I'll ask the question again: If a blade isn't the strongest weapon in a battle, what is?"

Lyra didn't respond, she just sat there, defeated, staring expressionlessly at the ground.

Kaelo sighed in frustration, and tapped Lyra gently on the head with the stick.

"I don't want you to think real strength and courage is a man with a sword in his hand. Real courage is when you know there is no chance of succeeding, but you begin anyway. The key is to endure the pain, accept it is temporary, and fight the fight no matter how bloody unfair it is. The key is to persevere."

When Lyra looked up at the man, he squatted by her side and smiled softly at his little friend, dabbing her bloodied lip with his sleeve.

"So-", he sighed, "What is the most powerful weapon in a battle?"

Lyra slowly moved her hand and tapped on her head. Kaelo grinned effervescently and squeezed Lyra into a tight hug to his chest, causing her to flinch at the touch.

"Yes, my dear Knight", he said in relief, "Your brain, your mind...your Soul".

With that, Kaelo picked up his stick and rose to his feet, while saying, "I was giving you a hint all along...Get up. When you are knocked down, get up. When there is no hope, get up. When you are too weak to bloody well stand, at least try and get up."

Lyra heaved herself off the ground, and no sooner had she stood on her own two feet, she found herself on the ground again. She looked up at Kaelo, stick in his hand, and his words rung in her mind - GET UP.

She struggled against the want to retreat and hide, it hurt desperately, and she knew she would fall again.

Still, she got up.

She found herself on the ground again, and she picked herself up again, wiping the blood off her lip. Time and time again, she found herself on the ground, nonstop would she look at the pitiful white flag and she fought every fibre of her being not to go over and pick it up in surrender.

She could not surrender. All she could do was get up.

Get up, get up, get up

It echoed in her mind. Get up.

Lyra looked over her shoulder. Lev.

She wasn't talking to herself. Lev was talking to her.

Get up!, Lev cried to her, Get up and fight!

Kaelo loomed over her, weapon in hand. She gathered her feeble little body and with one strong surge of energy she heaved herself to her feet, her own weapon in her hand this time.

She would be knocked down again. She would be defeated, undoubtedly. But that did not matter. She was utilizing the most powerful tools in battle. Her brain, her mind, her Soul.

She got up.