To all the world around, she presents herself as a young woman, with a family to raise, a garden to tend, and a household to run. As she makes her way through our world, the very young, the old, the weak, and the weary flock to her, all hoping for the blessing she will bestow. Plants around her flourish and the whole world seems brighter when she is near. She is a friend to all life and seeks to heal and preserve it whenever she can.
A generally happy person, she is soft spoken, with a smile for all. Going about her daily life, she sings or hums a little tune, a little smile on her face. But if we could look more deeply into her inner being, we could see the scars she carries from battles she’s fought over the eons. For she is a warrior- priestess come down through the centuries, always here to protect and to heal.
Long ago, in a place and time forgotten, she was a young woman living life much as those around her did. Life was good. There was sun and rain in the proper seasons, food aplenty, with enough for the day with enough to put aside. Her people were lived peacefully with the land, their Mother, and treated the Earth with respect.
Until that day when strangers came from the sea, killing those who called her land home and destroying everything in their path. Rising to the need, she drew a sword, raised a shield, and led her people into battle, shining as a beacon in the darkness. Driving back this malevolence, she preserved her part of the world for a while.
When her work was done, she passed over into the void from which she’d come, only to be reborn in the next age, once again called to protect and heal.
And she has been doing so ever since, in every generation, drawing to her those who would join her fight. Those mere mortals who live only once before passing forever into the mists beyond this world, who share her visions, pick up their arms and defend the light as so many before them have done.
And always there is the priestess in their midst. She may not be called by this title in every age, but those who know her understand. This woman who has seen so many ages doesn’t demand worship or honor. Their is no need. Her followers will take care of her and see to her needs. For they are her fellow warriors, battle brothers and sisters, with a bond stronger than that of mere flesh.
Defender of the light, she is weary, for there is no rest for those who battle against the darkness. Filled with hatred against the light, it is always there, seeking any crack in the world’s armor, following any path, no matter how small, to lay waste to the light in the world around. It presses in when we are sick, tired, or tempted, beckoning us onward, like the deep shadows in the forest draw us forward to our destruction.
And the warrior priestess stands firm to keep it at bay.
Tired but vigilant, weary but not broken, she is always poised to pick up her sword of light and shield of truth to lead followers of the light into battle, for this is her calling which she cannot ignore. And when darkness comes, as it always does, she will fight it to the death, as she has done so many times before, only to be reborn to fight against it through another lifetime.
Warrior-priestess, defender of the light, we salute you and wish you rest and peace.