Warrior

Her mind seems to have turned into a battlefield!
It used to be a tiny piece of beautiful land, rich in flowers and fruits, with tiny creeks flowing noiselessly; the fragrance too much to be contained inside that it often spread out on its own, attracting many-a-butterfly.

And one day without notice, came in strangers who destroyed her gardens, stole away her flowers, and her brooks and creeks retreated deep into the earth. The butterflies of old still flutter around, oblivious of all the turmoil inside, but no new ones arrive. The tarnished piece of land, more or less a desert now, turned into a battlefield. In came old enemies, digging into the earth, trying to find her creeks and uproot them once and for all. But however hard they tried, however brutally they hacked the earth of her mind, they found no brook nor seed.

The battle still rages on inside; very few have noticed the turmoil inside. All help from outside seems to be in vain, some even threatening to dig in further and wound her even more, some others seeing the destruction and giving it readings she cannot fathom . And her little butterflies hovering around, ever faithful, surer than herself that spring will return soon.
There are little showers in between, giving her hope every once in a while. And when she gets up with plans to prepare the earth again, the land suddenly dries up, plunging her back into despair, leaving her helpless to watch the battle start again.

She’s waiting for the gardener to return and reclaim the land in his own time. Meanwhile she’s on a journey in search of his messengers, to help her clean up the land of all it’s mines.