I am no man. Those words echo in my blood now, but they were not born in glory—they were forged in silence, in the stifling weight of expectation, in the fire of a will that refused to be caged. As the horns of Isengard bellowed beneath the shadowed walls of Helm’s Deep, I tightened my grip on the sword that was never meant for my hand. Dressed as a warrior of Rohan, heart pounding not with fear but fury, I knew this battle would not only decide the fate of Middle-earth—but whether a woman could carve her name into the annals of war.