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SCARlett

WHAM! The silence was broken by roars and yells of happiness from the crowd. The villager had won the match. Everybody started moving towards the winner, wanting to congratulate him. The gentlemen patted him on the back, while the ladies exchanged polite smiles and words. One person however, walked away from the field to solitude. Scarlett Nightingale plopped down on the grass in the deserted garden, pulling out grass. Scarlett was happy for the villager, but she hated him at the same time for being able to express his talent while she couldn’t. Then sound of a horn broke her train of thoughts. The Royal Guard! Scarlett took off running. The people in the field had grown quiet and were talking in hushed whispers. The guard stepped forward, “ People of Mercia! On Her Majesty’s birthday this year, the queen has decided to have a sword-fighting competition. Anyone may take part.” While nobody else seemed to notice anything, Scarlett looked up startled. Anyone? Certainly not! The guard was now looking at her, giving her a small nod when she looked back at him enquiringly.

Now Scarlett understood what the queen meant when she said, “Your time will come soon, Scarlett. I’ll make sure of it.” Last summer, the Queen had walked in on her practicing with a sword and Scarlett was forced to tell her about her deepest secret. Scarlett walked back in the direction to her house, a bounce in her step. Nothing was going to stop her from winning that contest.

The field had gone completely quiet when Scarlett’s name was announced. The Ladies in the crowd were giving her horrified looks and the men looked at her as if she were mad. Scarlett had never had anything against those women who were satisfied to sit at home and stitch and eat and chat, but she hated women who opposed others who actually wanted to make a difference. She hated them with every fibre of her existence. Locking away her thoughts in a box and pushing it to the back of her mind, she faced her opponent. He shot her a quizzical look as she grinned. Even before she could formulate a strategy against him, the gong sounded and their swords clashed. Within moments, her opponent’s sword lay on the ground, her sword pointed at his throat. The crowd sat in astonishment.


Photo by Samuel Zeller on Unsplash

The contest progressed and Scarlett charged through the rounds. The two people left standing where Scarlett and Prince Matthew, the crown prince of their neighbouring country, Titan. Scarlett had been very confident about herself till she caught sight of the prince. In the few minutes that they were given before the final battle, Scarlett attempted to collect her thoughts. Dread washed over Scarlett as she realised that he must have been training his whole life. But then, so had Scarlett. The first gong sounded, signalling them to enter the battleground. The second gong sounded and Scarlett moved to attack. In no time, it was clear that the fight wasn’t going to get over that easily. So the prince changed his tactic. While he still continued to slash the sword, he attempted to distract her. “It baffles me as to why a lady would think she could fight!” he mocked. Scarlett faltered as rage filed her, and the prince managed to slash her arm. Scarlett imagined her mother’s voice saying, ‘This is what he wants you to do. He, having seen all the fights would surely know that you’re not playing around with a sword. Calm down, Scarlett! He’s trying to provoke you’.

Power coursed through her as she cleared her mind. She began to press the sword even harder. The prince’s eyes widened, surprised. Scarlett said, “Yes, it surprises me that you thought you could fight.” The prince faltered on his grip on the hilt of the sword and Scarlett knocked it out of his hands, pointing the sword at his throat. The crowd regardless of men or women rose in applause. After all, it was a moment of joy for Mercia. The royal family approached her and Scarlett sank into a curtsey. The queen’s eyes shone with pride and the king looked completely curious. Prince Matthew said, “It was a pleasure sparring with you, Lady Scarlett.” Scarlett nodded. The queen smiled softly, saying, “Get refreshed for the medal ceremony, Scarlett.” Scarlett nodded. Completely drained, she made her way back to her room. All the adrenaline had drained out of her. Removing her armour, she caught sight of her arm and suddenly felt sick. To her horror, there was a long, deep gash stretching from her wrist to her elbow. The metal of her armour seemed to have pressed into it, making it worse. Blood spewed out and the sight of it made Scarlett sick. Tears started blurring her eyes. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood everywhere. Scarlett saw images of the night her mother died. Blood again. She didn’t know which scar hurt more. The one on her arm, or the one that had been inflicted upon her due to her mother’s death. ‘I’ve done it mother. I’ve fulfilled your dream.’ She said in her mind, sobbing. The door flew open. “Miss, oh dear Miss, what happened?” was the last thing she heard before she lost consciousness.


When she opened her eyes, she knew exactly where she was. A doctor checked her pulse. “Everything is fine. Keep her away from the sight of blood.” And he left. Her father sat down next to her, “You’re mother would have been proud.” “I know father.” she said in return. When his eyes drifted to the scar on her hand. She immediately covered it. Her father looked at her in surprise. “Are you ashamed of it, Scarlett?” he asked her. “I...I...yes father.” She said looking at it. Her father lifted her chin. “From every wound there is a scar, and every scar tells a story. A story that says, you survived. It’s not something to be ashamed of.” She smiled. “Would you like something to eat?” he asked. Scarlett nodded her head eagerly. Her father laughed and left the room leaving her to her own thoughts. A physical scar gets healed, but an emotional one doesn’t. But some people tend to soften its effects. And for the first time since she passed away, she smiled at the thought of her mother. She dug into the food her father had placed on the table. If she could fight a prince, she could fight a scar alright.

“Wear your scars with pride. They show that you were stronger than whatever tried to hurt you.”

- Madhumitha Balamurugan

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