Destiny be warned. Your grip may be strong, your judgment severe, but we resist you. We have the strength.
Who are we? The broken children. The little warriors.
Were we alone you may defeat us. You’ve fought this battle and won since the dawn of time. You are powerful, and, yes, we are small.
It may seem sometimes that you are too strong. That the die is cast. That the ending has been written.
Not true. We resist.
But not alone. Were it not for the Warrior Nurse, the Guardian, you may defeat us.
When we are drained the warrior renews our strength. She empties her well to fill ours, and we raise our banners anew.
When we are afraid—terrified—so frightened we may lay down our fight, she pours in us her bravery, absorbing our fear and restoring our snarl.
When in the midst of the battle’s darkest hours our skins get tough and the walls around our hearts grow taller, she steels herself to give us laughter. She swallows our pain and gives us joy.
When Kayla down the hall falls after her mighty battle, even the warrior is shaken.
Warrior, we need you still. The fight continues.
She does not fall. She returns to her post. Guardian in the night.
Destiny be warned. The warrior will not stand down.
So we, the broken children, the little warriors, will defeat you.