Etheral

BY GABRIELA BERGSTROM '27

Notes

Through the woodlands filled with herbage, its rich and prospering foliage, and rivers and streams rushing down mountains’ creeks.

There laid the village Bladesbrew in grasslands of valley dews. Cliffs surrounding their views of woods not meant to be pursued.

In the lives of the people of Brew’s Blade, most are skilled in how defense is made.

Smiths and armorers work to display the next sword that will drive away dismay.

However, some of Brew’s people aren’t so lucky for one in particular was stuck to be sullied.

Having to deal with an armorer so irritating, her chores consisted of things too aggravating.

Though her work messed with her desired demand, Etheral still learned to use a blade to defend.

Wherever the smith was away collecting ore, she fought with practice swords till Earth’s sunrise poured.

Now sneaking away in time for a Fighter’s Trial, the prized event for anyone willing to be primal. Passing trials without any blank or obvious errors, she was crowned winner out of the other oppressors.

Etheral, Bladesbrew's best newly found fighter.

This was much of title to be greatly favored For best fighters must challenge the Old that has been taunting the village that’s been told.

Night had now sent their dark misted blanket across the village’s surrounding thicket. Up late and left with their chores the smith says, “Don’t you dare snore. ”

Glazing the armory ’ s swords with crystal blue, she heard “Etheral!”, her name not anew for now the call of her name was the arrival of gold whenever a hidden outsider came from The Old.

Grasping its handle crafted from diamond galore, the tip was dragged towards the village’s door.

Feet stalking to their outsider’s trace, meeting a small sword against a stone mace.

There standing behind trees was Old’s golem being taken from Lady Earth’s design so wholesome. Carved out from hard rock and nature’s green twine and forced to be a destructive victim’s mind.

They launched their mace straight for her heart, the intention to end her life’s living arc.

Etheral, avoiding swings and strikes tries to spot where an angered golem’s core lies.

Deep inside the rock’s crumbling centered chest shining a white light through its compressed nest. With a detraction from a owl’s close-by cry, Old’s golem head swerved to face its eye.

Knowing what will come of her sword’s final blow, she ran pointing its tip into its core ’ s glow. The golem cried from a diamond’s stabbing pain and fell to Earth’s feet unable to restrain.

Now with the final blow done, the rock eroded away only to leave the Old’s daily prey: a man with their skin fading from a beige to a gray and no longer able to go further Peace’s way.

This was the beginning of Etheral’s fork in the woods: save Bladesbrew - her home, or the taken by Old.