Novel & Cerita The Poet Warrior Youth

our existence, i have been around the lands, empty land, all were once occupied by beautiful people, and ruled by wise kings, but what happened today, they have become empty and ruined, lands where spirit now walks, i looked at all those lands and not even graves could be found and no tomb for their children, i was not spared, i already had my own shares of the cake, they had came and made me homeless and my life has been shattered for too long, i have no memories of my childhood, i was busy hiding around Jugular for years, we sure have a problem and the bigger problem is love, love from these heavenly beings, their love is wicked than hate, tell me, how do you deal with a war that can't be

“Should I tell you about the time I pulled my mother’s lifeless body from a burning field? Or maybe how I stitched up a dying wolf with my bare hands while arrows flew over my head?” The soldier blinked but didn’t speak. “Or maybe,” I added sharply, “you would prefer something simpler. Like a demonstration.” He gave a single nod. “Let’s see what you’ve got.” I stepped forward, not afraid, not angry. Just done with the nonsense. “If you want proof, you can wait for it on the battlefield. Or ask those who have fought beside me before. But this? Standing around a fire trading rumours like bored farmers? That’s not how warriors act.”

"Spare us the speeches. This is a warrior's ground — not a poetry club." Some of the older warriors chuckled under their breath. Jo ignored them, her voice rising: "Strength is a girl who keeps fighting after everyone tells her she’s worthless. Strength is surviving — when the world tries to crush you. Strength is standing back up after every slap, every insult, every heartbreak." She swept her gaze over the field. "Anyone can swing a sword. It takes a real warrior to carry a broken heart — and still keep marching." Silence. The trainer shifted, annoyed, but said nothing.

My voice shimmered with hope, my heart fluttered with the thought of a future filled with love. Sunrise laughed, her voice was light and teasing, "Dreaming big, aren't we?" We all burst out laughing, our laughter echoed through the forest, Just as we were lost in our girlish fantasies, a patrol of Warriors emerged from the shadows of the forest. At the front was Stone-heart, a young wolf whose arrogance matched his strength, his stoic, handsome face carved with responsibility far beyond his years. He was just 22. He signaled his men to move forward, his gaze fixed steadfastly on me. I felt my heart skip a beat.

" Screaming and crying, Mom lunged toward the corner, desperately trying to piece her phone back together. But the scattered components were already beyond saving. "You're the vile one! That's your own son we're talking about!" Uncle Arnold frowned and put down his fork. "Trevor, maybe you should give Julian a call. Three hours without moving really is a bit—" Dad shot him a displeased glare. "Arnold, don't tell me you're falling for that sentimental nonsense too? Julian's just lazy and waiting for me to go get him. "If I cave now, all the hardship from before will have been for nothing. This is called psychological warfare, understand?"

“Qaetanya and I were the same age, and we grew up together. As she became more and more revered, I became a warrior.” “Warriors in our Clan meant that we would retrieve the souls of those dying from conflict. It's dangerous to retrieve souls when war was taking place, and that is when the warriors would step in. I saw the occupation as being heroic, and in my desire to be like Qaetanya, to be worthy of her attention, I joined the warriors wholeheartedly.” He chuckles. “I was such a naive child those days. I was yet to see the dark side of the world, viewing life through a rose-colored lens. But then I was thrust into the battlefield and made to see the truth.”

She had moments of courage, but she felt like they were only moments. “A warrior is defined by moments,” Aiden said. “A single moment can make you a warrior. A warrior is also defined by decisions. By courage. But a warrior, otherwise, is normal. A warrior cannot be a warrior every moment of the day. But, a warrior’s spirit is always there.” Caitlin thought about that. She felt flattered by the term, and the more she pondered it, the more she liked the label, the identity. But she also felt it came with a responsibility.

Elleanna’s voice carried into the front as she sang and baked “…Now I’m a warrior…Now I’ve got thicker skin…I’m a warrior….I’m stronger than I’ver been..And my armor, is made of steel, you can’t get in…I’m a warrior…and you can never hurt me again….Out of the ashes, burnin’ like fire….you can save your apologies…you’re nothing,but a liar…I’ve got shame, I’ve got scars…that I will never show…I’m a survivor…In more ways than you know…” She took out the cookies and moved them to cool down then she began baking a homemade carrot cake. “…there’s a part of me that I can’t get back…A little girl grew up too fast…All it took was once, I’ll never be the same….Now I’m taking back my life today…Nothing

he started, “You have to learn to face your problems. Running away from your problems isn't a permanent solution. It's only temporary. But facing your problems is a permanent solution. You have to be a warrior, okay?” I nodded with a pout. His words didn't make sense, yet they did. I didn't know why. “I want to be a warrior…” I muttered in a daze like a child. “Very good. Do you know what a warrior does?” he asked, trying to ignite curiosity in me. “Sacrifices their lives for other people?” He chortled and shook his head. “No, silly. They fight back.” I glanced at him quizzically as a question appeared in my mind.