Freya

• Scarlett Kroonenburg , Grade 6
• Short Story
• 2022

The false sense of security we had all been trying to lull ourselves into was popped like a bubble when the war came to Northea Cliff. The battle raged on top of the cliff which cast us forever in its shadow. We ran around in a panic setting up our defences and gathering makeshift weapons but we were no army, we were farmers and merchants, parents and children. I myself am just an eleven year old girl, my name is Freya and I have red hair with blue eyes.
When I was little, I had really wanted to see a Shadow Glade, but when I was older, I’d discovered that I was one of them, just like my mother who was defending a village in the south from the First Born last we heard. But was it possible that she could be here, now?
I wanted to know so bad, so I carefully made my way to my friend’s house. Lew was playing out the front seemingly unaware of the flashes and clangs above us. When I explained to him what I wanted to do he glanced up to Northea. I could see the fear in his eyes but his curiosity won out, also I could tell he didn’t want to let me go alone. We snuck through the town and then clambered up the steep craggy, yet well worn, path. We reached the top and peeked over the edge.
What we saw was indescribable. It was devastation and chaos. The clang of axes and swords was deafening. There were bursts of immense power from both sides. People lay on the ground injured and dying some with their friends standing over them engaged in battle.
One Shadow Glade dispatched of her opponent and looked around. She spotted us and somehow recognised that we were villagers. Her eyes widened in shock, she gestured to us urgently to leave. One of the First Born charged her and she whirled around just in time to deflect the blow.
Simultaneously they both stepped back, sheathed their weapons and raised their arms. An enormous explosion of light and dark force rippled through the air and by the time it ended we were already halfway down the mountain, scrambling away. Lew and me went back to our respective houses and I collapsed on my bed.
Two nights we spent in fear, then in the early light of Tuesday morning the battle ended. Some people peered tentatively out of their windows while everyone else piled into the street including me and my five year old sister Jamie. But it was not a black starry plume that rose into the sky, it was a column of blinding light that sizzled the air around it.
We raised our weapons, as figures made of excruciatingly bright light appeared on the edge of the ridge, but I knew it was in vain. In unison the First Born raised their weapons and fired down on us, and all hell broke loose.