Trung Trac and Trung Nhi were sisters born around 14 C.E. in Vietnam, not far from modern day Hanoi.

Living in a time where China’s rule expanded to parts of modern-day North Korea, Central Asia, and most of Vietnam, the sisters watched as governors worked to suppress their local customs and cultures, conscripted many, taxed more, and plundered their natural resources.

Descendants of the Hung kings (if you believe the stories) and the offspring of a dragon and fairy love match, these girls were trained like the dragon-fairy mythical connotations of their lineage demanded, learning everything from weapons to warfare strategies. In her training, the older sister, Trung Trac, is believed to have earned her strength and courage through killing a then-believed-to-be-immortal white tiger. She married a lord chieftain’s son—Thi Sach—and together, they used their combined reach into aristocracy to oppose the new taxes and cultural assimilation.

And Thi Sach’s head was chopped off as punishment.

***

Sisters fight.

Fact.

I’ve heard this from too many people to count, usually accompanied by a shrug.

I can’t add my own evidence, despite having two sisters myself, but I love the drama of how squabbling sister stories unfold—whether they’re fighting each other, or fighting for each other. My Aunt Laurie gets this smile on her face when she tells a story about my mom and her—one-part mischievous, one-part wistful, one-part victorious conqueror.

As kids, my aunt would win fights by shouting over of my mom’s threats and arguments “Can’t hear you, can’t hear you, forever and ever, until you’re nicer.” Which is almost as good as John Cena or any other fighter’s catch phrase I think.

So my mom dedicated her childhood to making secret battle bunkers in the woods, and running fast and hard barefoot, and learning how to use her Handy Andy Tool Chest. My aunt helped my mom get tough. It’s something I’ve always admired and something everyone underestimates about her.

All that lineage and knowledge—how to make a sister’s insults roll off of you, how to pack a punch with a couch cushion—I didn’t inherit.

***

Trung Trac turned to her sister, Trung Nhi, who she had trained with and against since birth, and together they began to quietly rally the lords loyal to them. Trung Trac skipped her husband’s funeral rights, discarded her mourning clothes for armor, and prepared for war. By the beginning of the battles, she and her sister had raised an army 80,000 strong.

On June 2^nd, 40 C.E., the Trung sisters stood on the banks of the Hat River in gold armor carved with birds. Together, Trung Trac and Trung Nhi led their forces—complete with thirty-six female generals—and reclaimed sixty-five cities of ancestral land.

***

In my life, I’ve fought my sister once and cried for about an hour afterwards.

My mom had taken me and my two sisters to a self-defense class when I was in middle school, and I remember looking at my fist and at my sister across from me, thinking I’m going to throw up.

It was an escape move, mostly in mime. I did it once.

And then said I needed to go to the bathroom and ran before my sisters could see my tears.

Because if I have one job as the middle sister, it’s that I’m in charge of protecting my sisters. It’s why I don’t fight them. It’s why I’d rather swallow my anger and garden my heart out then say something that I would regret. I wanted to be the one they thought of in the golden armor, the one that would stand beside them with a sword to lob off any heads that got in our way. My sisters didn’t need an army of 80,000 strong if they had me. Yet there I was, unable to move, feeling guilty that I’d left my sisters and feeling guiltier that I didn’t complete what I thought was the only way to earn my strength and courage.

I’d given up. My mom drove me home.

***

Vietnam was free of Chinese administration for the first time in 150 years. Trung Trac and Trung Nhi co-ruled their people, distributed the governor’s wealth to their poor and war-effected people, liberated those conscripted by the Chinese, abolished the taxes and restored land taken by Chinese aristocrats.

Peace lasted two years.

Then the rebelling south lands fell to China in 43 C.E.. The Trung sisters died that day, most likely side by side in the fight. In their battle history, they are never recorded to have surrendered. Not even once.

Fact.

Middle school Gabbie would have loved that part—and I still do, in some ways. But some other part of me wishes that the sisters got to live their days out in the peace they fought together for. I think all sisters work to balance their feral need to be the knife in their sister’s boot and learning to let go. They fight tigers on their own; you help them bring down an empire. Maybe, you complain about them stealing your sweatshirts.

It’s an easy choice for us, as sisters, who to throw the couch cushions and swords at.

It’s not each other when it really matters, you know?

Gabrielle Eisma

Gabrielle Eisma graduated Calvin with a BFA in studio art and writing in 2022. She’s from Grand Rapids, Michigan, where she now works as a writer and illustrator for books for (mostly) children and middle grade readers.