Found between moss and blood.

I am not a warrior.

I am not a heroine.

I am the one who draws where they fell.

When everyone rushes into battle, I draw the borders.

When one shouts "forward!" and another "hold the shield!" - I mark where the ground crunches differently.

I am a cartographer.

A recorder.

An eyewitness. A witness. Not a participant.

Why? Because when someone writes "victory", I want to know how many corpses lie behind that word. Because I wasn’t chosen. I chose.

The guild didn’t accept me right away.

"Said some girl with a map, who needs you if you can’t shoot, stab, or heal?"

But then my route saved a squad.

Then my drawing led them out of a trap.

Then it turned out that a map marking every bush and corpse, is more needed than a pompous swordsman.

I won’t become a legend.

But I know where she made a mistake.

And that’s enough for me.