She heralded the legions that would fight for the world. They all looked up to her, but he wasn’t part of them. They marched with her, the six elemental heroes, by her side. She vowed to protect them.

She marched on the territory of the Overlord. Her sword ready to deal with the enemy that seems to have been the cause of the darkness. She marched, and killed, and killed, and by her side was the six elemental heroes, yet he wasn’t by her side.

“Where is he?” she asked the stars.

She marched and fought. The legions of demons, the hordes, their champions, they always wanted to stop her. They all looked with eyes of worry, and said, “Please rest milady!”

“I can’t,” she said. “I need to take care of this problem.”

She fought the overlords of demons with her heroes.

***

She had nothing to do. She just drifted from place to place, those who try to curry her favor, but alas, she always found herself on back to Oasis, searching, looking around for nothing.

She found herself walking into an alley, recalling the man whose face didn’t utter a tinge of disgust at the sight of her face. She smiled, and walked to the bench where he admitted bold words, her smile faded, thinking, maybe, she will find him again, she won’t just be left alone after being given the weight of the world, right?

***

Years passed, those who she knew grew old except for a few. She never found him.

She saw the heroes marry, her heart would always ache, thinking, “I want that too,” she dreams like a little girl while watching.

She saw them grow old, their children becoming great figures, and their smiles never fading, never burning out, and she could not help but be jealous.

She stayed in a strange countryside, full of ceramics, the people wear strange robes, she thought, it must be great to have them. She would stroll the beaches, with her paper parasol, the kids would ask her tales. She would stay in a cottage, watching the fire.

***

One hundred years of existence, she hasn’t even thought of exploring, thinking, all she wanted was peace. But alas, the world can’t keep quiet, they called her on an ivory palace, the Emperor, a familiar face, son of a hero, told her of an enemy. So she brought her sword with her, fended off cannons, destroyed navies, and watched the heroes defeat the enemy nation, though knowing that it was a ploy, it didn’t matter.

She saw a group of orphans fending off a wolf, she approached them, her smile radiant, offered her hand, and asked them to come with her. She brought ten orphans to the countryside, she learned how to cook, dressed them, gave them life, and they grow old and wrinkled, she stayed the same.

Ten graves, and before long, she owned an entire graveyard, once a year, she would come with her granddaughters, and carry bouquets of flowers put in carriages, her granddaughters would help, she would smile, keep it, let them have her smile, for family what she wanted, though they keep leaving her alone.

***

Please no more, she thought once. How many times I have to see them go away, she thought. Vie, Audrey, where are you? Please come and visit, she thought.

Hail Blessed Maiden, they all wanted power, why does it matter, she thought. Why was I given the weight of the world, did he purposely did it, was he a mirage created to fool a young woman into the role of someone who shines when the sun isn’t around, and when the darkness covers. Built to never falter, but why do they see only the powerful weapon?

Cold heart freezes, the heart remains alone, fifteen generation passes, she doesn’t remember where most of her granddaughters came from, their origins unknown, the thought of the man who saved her, slowly, losing, disintegrating from her memory, why are they all granddaughters, no, the grandsons die, like heroes, soldier-borne, inspired, loved by a lonesome war-maiden, surrounded by family, yet her heart has a big hole, unable to be filled, constantly missing a single puzzle, and so she stood, surrounded by those she rescued, not her blood, but she loved not less.

***

How many times it has been, she thought. Always standing alone, covered in blood, sword dulled, body scratched, eyes cold, and young men foolish enough to face a war maiden, their mouths gaping, and their cries saying, “Mother, I want to go home.” As she cuts them down without mercy, no, not without mercy, but out of her own belief for her good. She stood, hungry, tired, thirsty, out of breath, behind her, those who she murdered, and there was only silence, they look at her, with fear, and awe.

“Cut them down,” her allies said.

“You showed your prowess, milady,” they said.

“Monster,” a boy said.

She understood, did not lie, and did not run from those words, those words were true, no, she turned into a monster, no, she wanted to be savior, but, she was a hero, a savior, and praised for her saving, and not once did she falter. No matter what, no matter how painful it was, walking the earth, losing those she calls family, seeing them die, seeing them grown, and letting them die.

Power cannot deny those whose time had passed, she was blessed, seemingly perpetual, never decaying, but in truth, placed as a guardian, knowing that was now her duty. Endless, how many times, how many died, and how many injuries, and how many more will come and go as time passes, as she watches perpetually, not faltering, not knowing why the man gave her the role, and not knowing even why she was chosen in the first place.

“Why was I chosen?” She asked the fates before their deaths. “We don’t know,” they answered. “You were simply brought, and you were compatible, and thus they gave you power.”

She pondered, and once cried, but yet as she walks the same roads, for a hundred times, there would be a time, whenever she was bloody, has a sad look on her face, there’s a child, looking down, extending a flower that blooms lovingly, melting her doubts, and lessening the pain of existing.

Now the man who vanished from her life, appears, tired, injured, and resisting, his eyes determined to live, to get away again...to get away again?

She stood in silence. The man was wary, she was not. She knew her strength and her power.

How can she compress five hundred years into a few words?