The Battle Shall Not Be Lost

• Annie Frencham, Grade 9, Balcatta Senior High School
• Short Story
• 2022

Excellence Award in the 'National Treasures 2022' competition

Thunder clapped and raindrops pelted down heavily on the foggy windowpanes, creating a sound much like the groan of a ship in a storm. Atwater, god of battle and war lay on his bed of feathers staring out the window his mood threatening to match the gloomy weather as he lay contemplating his life and thinking of the next as his servant Dominic entered the room his face also in a cloud of gloom at the sight of his master’s condition. “I have come to the end and I request nothing except you’ll pass this to my brother Orion,” Atwater said his voice barely a whisper as he handed the worn leather book to Dominic. As the old, hardwired, wrinkled hand met the young, Atwater’s cloud of gloom faded as he breathed his last.


Candles flickered around the room casting an eerie glow and dim vibe on the throne room in the residence of the gods, Atlantia. Orion paced back and forth across the smooth flagstones, his face set in deep thought as he tapped his bony forefinger against his equally bony chin. After what seemed like hours to Dominic, Orion recovered from his silence, “Why wasn’t I informed that my brother was dying?” “He was such a happy, positive person, he didn’t want to burden any of his family and friends with it,” Dominic replied from his position on a footstool examining a leather notebook in his hands, before he was reminded of the reason, he had it. “Sire, Atwater told me to give this to you,” Dominic passed the book to Orion who grabbed it hungrily.

Orion scanned endless long swirling letters, nodding his head as he read his brother’s words. “So long story short, Atwater has asked, as he didn’t produce an heir, that a fighting contest shall be held in the capital of Averna to determine who will proceed Atwater’s role as god of battle and war,” Orion, god of all gods, explained to Dominic. “Why this has never been done before.”

Over the table Malvado hunched over his desk turning over the piece of paper in his hands in vexation as he re-read the decree from the gods repeatedly till the words were spinning like a racing chariot wheel in his head. Malvado just knew this contest was a chance to join his brothers as a god and that he had been purposely excluded by them. Malvado grabbed a tin mug of wine on his desk and gulped down the contents thirstily, before he choked them out all over his desk. He then walked over to the kitchen to grab a towel; on his way he spotted the shelf of potions he had been working on lately. Realisation hit him, magic wasn’t allowed in the contest but, he’ll show these gods who he was, especially his brothers Atwater and Orion. Malvaldo’s smile lit up the room, the only sight of light in the dim, dark cottage.