Larissa Seybert

Shields break and weapons rust, but stories remain.

Stories are not only the records of the past and of that which never was, but the voice of a place or time we cannot reach. None of us can turn back the centuries and study beneath the masters of old; even if we could, doubtless most would scoff at the idea of a swordswoman. Perhaps that is the great power of stories—though they inform who we are and what we know, they are also fluid. In today’s story, we can be warriors, and we are. We tell our own stories about our art, and in so doing allow it to grow into something with its roots in history and its branches spreading into now.

Many of us would readily call ourselves storytellers; I have been writing stories since I was a child. Yet even those of us who would balk at the idea of taking up a pencil are still part of the story, and stories are undeniably parts of them. I do not hesitate to guess that the majority of the Sphinxes find joy and fascination in history or fantasy, or both. How else could we find this connection in our common love of an almost-lost art? Nobody can deny that in the public eye our arts still exist in the realm of stories, but the tales are changing. In taking up our blades (or our fists) we are telling a new story:

We are the women of HEMA.

We are ladies.

We are warriors.

We are Esfinges.

Read Original at: http://esfinges1.wix.com/e/apps/blog/we-are-warriors