Until the enemy knocks

Nobody loves a warrior until the enemy is at the gates.

In times of peace, the warrior becomes invisible - tucked away in the corners of society, misunderstood, sometimes even mocked. People begin to believe that peace is the natural state of things, that safety and freedom are just part of the package. They forget what it took to get here - and who paid the price.

And in that forgetting, something dangerous happens. The very idea of strength begins to seem outdated. Barbaric. Inconvenient. Especially in this modern world, where softness is celebrated and resilience often mistaken for aggression, where stoicism is confused with emotional repression and discipline is seen as a relic of a less “evolved” age.

But that’s not progress. That’s amnesia.

Strength - real strength - isn’t loud or cruel. It doesn’t need to boast. It stands quietly, with scars hidden beneath the armor, prepared for storms that others pretend no longer exist. The warrior doesn’t crave war - but when darkness rises, they’re the first to rise with it.

And it’s only then - when chaos returns, that people remember the value of courage, sacrifice, and strength. That they once again look to the very people they ignored in quieter times.

So here’s the truth: the warrior is always needed, even when you can’t see them. Especially then. Because the presence of peace doesn’t mean the absence of threat - it only means someone, somewhere, is standing watch.

And in a world that forgets this, being strong is an act of quiet rebellion.