You've undoubtedly heard the tale of Robin Hood, but what if I was to tell you they got it all wrong?
First of all, Robin is female.
{All characters other than my own belong to J. R. R. Tolkien}
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She was 6 years old when she began training.
It was one of those days where you feel so bored and so alone. Half the school was knocked out due to a spreading flu, meaning that the little girl's only two friends were at home in bed. Usually she would go to her brother in times like this, as he would instantly invite her to play with his friends, but he was also at home coughing his lungs up.
The little girl plodded along the grass field which was labelled a playground, not knowing what to do with the twenty minutes of lunch which lay ahead. Her nose was red as she wiped it with the back of her hand, and the rumble in her tummy caused her to pull a shiny red apple from the inside of her backpack.
She tossed the ripe apple in her hand, admiring the vibrancy of the fruit before bringing it to her lips.
Suddenly, she was pushed to the ground.
Nicholas was a bull of a kid who stood double the height of the girl. His arms were thick and red, and his face as round as an onion pizza. He was a grade older than the little girl, but somehow bullying children younger than himself brought a sickly satisfaction.
The apple rolled through the dirt, stopping directly infront of Nicholas's scruffed boot.
"Thanks for the apple, dweeb face." The large boy sneered, the freckles on his face barely visible due to how red his skin was.
'Looks like you need some fruit' the little girl thought to herself, although she did not dare say it aloud.
Nicholas lifted his fat leg, and stomped down onto the apple, sending the soggy pieces flying into the little girl's face.
She just lay there, glaring up at the bully from the itchy grass, but not having the confidence to stand up for herself. Usually others would fight back, especially boys or those as big as the bully. Fights were always breaking out on the grounds, and the teachers didn't care, for in those days the whole point of school was to learn how to take care of yourself, and only yourself. But the little girl was tiny compared to the raging bull known as Nicholas.
"Loser." The chubby boy spat, before stomping away with his group of overly conceited followers.
"Humpty Dumpty." The little girl muttered under her breath.
Later that afternoon, when the little girl had arrived home from school, there was a thought which had been lingering on her mind for most of the day.
"Mummy?"
Vlidia brushed a strand of raven hair over her shoulder as she walked towards her daughter, handing over a small cup of flu medicine, before placing her slender hand against the child's forehead.
"I want to learn how to fight." The little girl remarked with confidence.
This drew Vlidia's attention, as she cocked her head and gazed down at her daughter.
"But you're a girl, are girls even allowed to fight?" Her brother questioned from his chair, before letting out a ghastly cough. He wasn't questioning his sisters strength, he was genuinely curious. It was rather rare seeing girls in training.
"A girl can be just as strong, and just as brave as any man." Vlidia replied, softly brushing her daughter's silky hair out of her inquisitive face.
The little girl beamed up with eager eyes. Her mother truely was her role model.
Only a few days had passed before the little girl found herself in a class where you didn't have to put ink to paper, rather daggers to targets. The training sessions didn't commence until after school hours, and she had been wriggling out of excitement for the entire day.
But being of only six, she had to firstly learn what was basic and necessary for her age. It started with learning how to correctly throw a punch using the weight of your body, not hurting your wrist while doing so, and how to correctly yield different weapons.
Her class was only small, about fifteen children of her age at the most, the majority being boys. She was instantly paired up with the only other girl in her group. This created a bond through partnership which soon turned to a strong friendship.
It was during a warm up which consisted of a sprint and twenty punches to a sack inwhich the little girl wondered if she had really found an interest in attack. She questioned whether she would ever be strong enough to earn the label of a true fighter. Her small body ached as she never was an athletic child, and the thought of putting herself through so much pain on routine caused her to doubt if fighting really was her passion.
But it was a sight inwhich she caught out of the corner of her eye that confirmed her final decision.
There was a girl no older than a teenager going up against some stocky boy in a controlled fight. Not often were females paired with males, meaning that the situation baffled the little girl.
But alas, just as the fight has caught her attention, the teenage girl sent a sidekick into the boys ribs followed by a solid punch to his nose, sending him to ground with a muffled thump. She then drew her sword, placing the tip against his throat as she stood over the boys weary body. This left both a breathless vanquish, and a little girl filled completely with awe.
"Wow." She remarked beneath her breath.
Her mother was right, not that she had doubted her for a second.
And after that experience, the little girl never skipped a training session. She had a goal to be as amazing as the female who had brought so much inspiration, and nothing was going to stop her from achieving just that. It was hard work, indeed, but no second of it was even considered wasted. That was what she wanted to do for the rest of her life. She could be just as good as any man, if not better.
She was 6 years old when she discovered her passion for fighting.
