Battle ready?

In the twilight before dawn, the camp bustled with activity. Men and women in armor were scattered all around the campgrounds, carrying shields, sharpening swords, reporting to commanding officers. Elizabeth, dressed in glistening armor, stood in the middle of the field. She'd hardly slept, continuously polishing her shield, then helmet, then breastplate, then shield again. Nervousness and excitement had kept her awake until roll call. She looked to the purple sky and took a deep breath. It was time. What she'd prepared for all her life was finally here.

She jogged towards her battalion passing familiar faces. Friends she'd trained with, brothers and sisters in other ranks. Everyone seemed to be outside. "Good morning, sir." she greeted arriving at the registration table. "Morning." the captain replied. "Elizabeth." she reported. The captain looked through the file in his hand. "Your name isn't on the list." "What?" She asked, puzzled. "Please, can you check again? There must be a mistake." Elizabeth argued. The captain looked through the sheet of papers again. "No. I'm sure." The captain answered. "You can't join us. It says here you aren't ready." Waves of confusion and fear drowned Elizabeth as the shock glued her feet to the ground. 

But I passed all my training. What was going on? At the last minute. Everyone she knew was on the field. Jumping back to reality, Elizabeth walked away from the desk trying to keep a calm face. She couldn't let people know she was turned away from battle. After walking out of view, she ran as fast as her legs could carry her, tears blurring her view. She stopped at a bench on the outskirts of the training grounds. Her world was crashing down around her. For years, all she'd ever done was prepare for the war against their kingdom's enemies. Battle tactics, camouflage training, survival skills, infiltration… and she'd passed with flying colors. I don't understand. Why train only to be turned away at the last minute?

She covered her head and began to sob. Suddenly, she felt someone sit beside her. Looking up, she saw a man dressed in civilian clothes. He looked like one of the commanding officers but she hadn't seen him before. "Are you alright?" He asked. "No, sir." she answered. Couldn't he see she was crying here?

"Want to talk about it?" Elizabeth contemplated further discussion with the stranger. "I was turned away," she answered. "From?" he asked. "The war." Elizabeth almost shouted. "I've trained so long and now they say I can't go." "I'm so sorry to hear that." The stranger comforted. "Do you know why they refused?" "Not really." Elizabeth sniffed. "Something about not being ready." I passed all my evaluations. She went on to tell the stranger all the training she had undergone. Wait! What if this man is from the other side? She cautioned herself.

"You know. Being a soldier isn't just about physical readiness." He pointed out. "Maybe there's another reason." "What do you mean?" Elizabeth asked. "Psychological training is just as important as physical training." He continued. "I'm as disciplined as anyone in my battalion." Elizabeth interrupted. "No. Not that." The stranger disagreed. "Then what?" She asked, getting impatient.

"Ok, let's look at it this way. Why are you upset?" The stranger inquired.

"Because I was turned away," Elizabeth responded. "And why does that upset you?" He continued. "You mean apart from the fact that it makes no sense and is totally embarrassing."  Elizabeth sarcastically replied. "Yes." The stranger nodded still calm. "Well, I..." Elizabeth started. "I worked really hard to be a part of this war." "Because?" He continued.

"Because I need to be in it!" She almost shouted, looking at the man. "Don't you get it? The Ashdodites are like a scourge on this earth. Everything they touch becomes corrupted. They go around on rampage like they own the world, killing people because of their ruthless, inhumane, irreverent conquest for power."

"So, revenge?" The man asked, his demeanor unchanged. "What!" Elizabeth exclaimed.

"You just said you need to be in it; I'm guessing to correct the injustices they perpetrated." He explained. "That's not revenge. It's justice." Elizabeth eyed the man. "How?" He asked. "By putting an end to the people that..." Elizabeth started. "Then you shouldn't be too upset." The man interrupted, studying her. "Others are fighting. Just not you." "What's the essence of my existence if I can bring justice to those who deserve it?" She stood up in indignation. "So you want to make them pay?" The man questioned. "Are you trying to put words in my mouth?" Elizabeth retorted. "There is a difference between justice and revenge." 

"It seems like you are trying to take matters into your own hands but God says vengenance will be mine." Elizabeth, too angry to process his words, was doing all she could to prevent herself from rolling her eyes. The essence in his words had trailed off leaving their pitter-patter like rain in hot oil. The man continued his explanation until she exploded, "Easy for you to say, you don't know the half of it!"

The man paused mid-sentence and looked up at Elizabeth, half-surprised at her outburst. "Ok then, tell me."

Dear reader,

I hope you enjoyed the first half of Elizabeth's story.

Anger and frustrations are common emotions that we have to deal with as humans and if you've ever felt them, you know they can be tricky to handle. Next week, we'll learn how we can approach the circumstances, situations or people that trigger us in the concluding half of Elizabeth's story.

See you soon.

✌️& 💖