Sprinting through the valley was a tall, brown blur with a large mop of beautiful, silky jet-black curls set ablaze by the golden sun on her head. Her laughter filled the space between her and the other runners. It was an easy, fluttering sound, like a hummingbird's wings moving faster than the speed of sound. In Asantwaa’s case, she was faster than that sound. The people of Pangea had never had a young warrior quite like Asantwaa. At only 18 earth-sun cycles, she’d already surpassed every man in all of the realms in martial arts, military strategy, strength, and agility. Looking at her, you’d never guess she was the greatest warrior to be born.
Asantwaa was a wiry girl, tall and lean like the bamboo stalks that grew around her village. A place she hadn’t seen in many moons. She’d come to the warrior realm when she was four. The Ancients had foretold of her coming, but her parents had never revealed what they had said at birth. All that Asantwaa knew was that it had been prophesied that her name would one day become the official title of the royal families of Pangea. Even thinking about that while she ran made her laugh. Asantwaa was no royalty; she was a simple farm girl from the Harvesting Realms. She was the daughter of rice growers and had been born from a long line of good, honest laborers. But for some reason, Asantwaa was not to have a life like her ancestors.
She began to show an aptitude for warcraft when her father found her using the measuring rods as fighting sticks. She was only 4 earth-sun cycles old, but she wielded the rods with a maturity and awareness of her body that her father found unfamiliar. As Asantwaa shrieked in childish glee, she spun the sticks as if they were merely toys. She held a captive audience as well; the goats and chickens her family kept seemed entranced by her movements and made no motion or noise. A rarity, especially since the laying hens were known to be rowdy. As Asantwaa continued to fight her imaginary sparring partner, her father couldn’t help but be impressed and amused. She had always been lively, but in her he saw a rare spark he had never seen in anyone before. Suddenly, Asantwaa’s eyes glowed a deep purple, and she appeared to be in a trance-like state. Despite her small stature, she seemed bigger; it was apparent the spirit of a mighty warrior lived within her.
It was that very day that Atwa mounted his only horse and made his way to the Warrior Realm. He knew that he had to tell the King about his daughter and her great skill.
Receiving an audience with the King would be nearly impossible. The mighty Warrior King rarely held court, especially for a farmer. Despite this fact, Atwa would not be deterred. He rode well into the night. He wouldn’t have stopped if his old horse hadn’t shown signs of fatigue.
As Atwa camped under the brightest stars in all of Pangea, he found himself unable to sleep. He kept thinking about what he would tell the King. Should he plead to his sensibilities, his vanity, or his never-ending need to protect all of the realms? Atwa had no real argument for why he felt Asantwaa was special, or why he felt the need to tell the king, but he knew there’d be deep regret in his heart if he didn’t try. With that thought in his head, he went to sleep.