When war runs in your blood...
The standards we set for ourselves are the hardest ones to live up to… I’ve crashed into that wall more times than I can count in my life. But I guess explaining that means I have to go back to the beginning. The beginning is further back than most of you can imagine, than any of you would actually believe. Back to one parent who walked Egypt before the pyramids rose from the sand and another who watched the foundation of Greece.
You’ve heard stories of the gods… But I know you didn’t believe them. You just can’t grasp that it could be real, that the sort of power they wield might exist in this world. I’m here to tell you it does. Whether or not you can accept it, they’re out there. You may have even walked by them in the street, looked in their eyes and wondered at the depth there. But being cryptic doesn’t really tell you who I am or where I’m from. So I’ll give you the truth and you can laugh and walk away and I’ll carry on.
My life started moments before my sister Bailey’s, over three thousand years ago, don’t ask for specifics… I stopped counting. If you want something stranger than that, I have two mothers. No, I’m not talking about the new modern families, I’m saying two women gave life to my sister and I. The goddess Artemis, yes that one… the one you were forced to learn about in school, gave birth to us and Lilith, a divine of Egyptian blood was the spark of life. Artemis believed the Amazon nation; yes we’re talking about the warrior women of Greece, needed heroes and saviors. She chose Lilith, a champion of the amazons and an elite warrior of her own regard, to fill the role. Maybe it was something more than a tryst to serve the future, but neither has given voice to it. Lilith was too dignified to speak of her personal life like that and Artemis too private. But there you have it. Bailey and I came into being on the safety of Olympus, home of the gods, but it wasn’t our destiny to stay there.
We were given to Lilith’s care and for her part she returned us to the Amazons, probably because it was the closest thing she had to home and family. I can’t say I fault Lilith for who she was and the type of mother she was, but gentle and tender definitely didn’t describe her. She’s the strong, silent type who spoke with weapons instead of words. But in the art of war, she was a masterpiece. I found the easiest way to get her attention was to question her about methods and attacks, but that was only when I was old enough to do that. Before we were old enough to fight she fed us and cared for us, but she wasn’t really there. But I had Bailey and I learned that was really enough.
Those are the earliest memories of I have… Bailey and I, I’m sure I dragged her into danger and trouble more times than I can count, but when your mother stands as a champion you feel like you need to impress. Or maybe it’s just part of who I am, if there’s trouble you’ll find me. If there was a fight, I probably started it. If somebody broke one of Lilith’s carvings, the dog did it…
Those memories follow pretty soon after the first ones I have of Bailey. Images of a tall woman sitting in the firelight carving some piece of wood or other until it became something fantastic. Those were intensely private moments, something no one else saw but my sister and I. I confess I still have a few of those wooden toys tucked away. Those were the softest moments of my childhood, unless you count curling up every night beside my sister.
We were young when combat training started, maybe 5 at the oldest. But those were desperate times for the Amazon nation, Rome was pressing on all sides and anyone who could lift a blade was needed to do so. Lilith was a force to be reckoned with, but not even she could turn the tide. I think that’s why we were pushed so soon and so quickly, there were many that believed we were children of prophecy. I remember her fresh from the battlefield, watching us in the sparring ring, I wanted so badly to see approval in those eyes. There was never scorn, but there was something there that I just couldn’t understand, it almost seemed like sadness. She never hesitated to pick me up and set me back in the ring, to adjust my hand on a weapon but her heart hardly seemed in it. I confess I thought the failing was me, I thought I just wasn’t good enough to be her daughter.
I fought so hard, took so many risks. Maybe I was a little bit stupid about it. Maybe it was Bailey who was stuck late at night soothing bruises and mending cuts. It’s not in me to give up or to give in, I would never yield, no matter the cost. I don’t know what watching that cost my sister, I never thought to ask. I guess I look back and I feel a little bad about it. But has it really changed? I’ll still be the first to answer any challenge, to stare down anyone who might insult me but at least I know I’ll stand guard over my sister and I’ve learned to step down instead of risking her safety. Thanks Bailey… I don’t know how you put up with me.
But I lost track didn’t I. So yeah, we were raised by the Nation, designed to be heroes and idolized as daughters of Artemis. Not something I much enjoyed, but you can’t change what is. I was in such a rush to go to the battlefield, even when I was only 10 I was trying to follow Lilith off to whatever combat she sought. There were always guardians and Bailey to drag me back home. Gradually Lilith’s hand in our training fell away and her absence was more noticeable than her presence. The elders always said she was fighting on the front lines, but it seemed like there was something more lurking. By the time we were old enough and ready enough to join the war, Lilith was gone entirely. Which left me with Bailey, but that was always enough.
I remember the first time I was forced to take a life in combat. I remember I Thought it should be more glorious than just the sense of sadness and duty I felt from it. But those weren't the thoughts of a warrior so I put them from my mind. Silence became more common than words and fighting was the only outlet that let me express the things I left unsaid. It hurt to destroy and so I did it more. I didn't understand the vicious cycle I was sinking into it. I didn't even understand the action one night around a campfire, picking up a stick and carving it down with my blade just to see something be made instead of destroyed. Those little things were broken down or tossed in the fire, but I at least got some satisfaction out of it. The wars became and haze and after awhile it seemed like Bailey and I against the world, but there was no one else I'd rather have at my back. She didn't love it like I did, but she wasn't going to let me down either.
We were lucky to survive at all. I’m sure you know history and know that nothing remains to even solidly prove there was an Amazon Nation. The nation fell to Rome in a series of tragic and bloody wars that left not a woman standing. Except for us, Artemis at least wasn’t going to see us perish in a conflict that we had no hope of winning. So where one mother retreated, another appeared. I think she thought it was a gift to take us to Olympus, to give us time to recover. But I chafed at the strangeness of this environment, but mostly I raged at losing. I HATE losing. And at that point, I didn’t imagine I was a creature capable of peace, I wanted to be the same savage wildcat my mother was rumored to be, I wanted blood and battle. I paced and ranted and raved and probably drove everyone insane. I did learn to internalize it eventually. But that never stopped the rage and the strategy. I’m not sure if that ever goes away.
Olympus wasn’t the place for us. Or at least not the place for me, I hope that I didn’t drag Bailey away from somewhere she wanted to be. But the world was out there. There was so much unknown, so much to see. And maybe, a parent out there to find. I’ll be honest, I never stopped thinking about Lilith and where she went. There was a trail that lead us across the world and back, but the places we saw in the process were beautiful enough for Bailey and I was content with that. I think time tempered my rage, made me quieter and more content. I learned hard lessons, learned that despite who I am, I’m not invincible. Somewhere along the line my priorities realigned. Keeping my sister happy and safe was suddenly more important than conquering the world and tracking down a parent that had abandoned us so many years before. Don’t get me wrong, I’m still going to find her, but the headlong rush to destiny has lost it’s appeal…
