“Close your eyes, son.”
The young man closed his eyes.
“Take a deep breath.”
The young man did.
“You are stood on the walls of our city, our home. Beneath your feet is the bulwark of our people, stone built higher and higher, mortar mixed with the blood and tears of our woman, our children. Our people are threatened. Our people are a people that have always been threatened. I’ve fought many battles, slain many enemies, and watched the slaying of many of my friends. Sometimes battles are not fought on the field, in the woods, across rivers, the deserts. Sometimes battles occur that are unwinnable. Sometimes the battles begin already lost. In the night – I’ve been informed, and have witnessed myself…they came.”
“Your sister is not at dinner.”
“Yes. She has gone. She has made her decision.”
“How did you allow this?”
“It is -”
“You are her King.”
“I am no longer,” the old King sighed, and bowed his head to the young Prince.
Been reading a lot of history non-fiction recently. I suppose it’s sunk in. Hope you enjoyed this short story.
I’ve always wanted to write fantasy, and maybe one day I will.