- King's Foundation -
For decades I served my master. Through both war and peace I've always been by his side. His servant since I was only twelve, my parents gave me to the royal family, a gift both for me and the newborn prince; he'd always have someone to watch him, and I'd have a better life than any I could ever earn as a serf in the fields.
My Prince had no relatives besides his parents, and so I acted as an uncle, entertaining and playing with him as his nurse allowed me. Quickly our relationship grew, until by the time he was ten, my life centered on him and we were as brothers, though I was twenty-two. I learned to wield a sword at his side then, and followed him through his studies. I learned to rule a nation as well as he. When he became king, I was his only adviser.
It was often that our kingdom was at war, and I always rode at his side, watching his sword during travel, guarding his life in battle. He trusted me and I him. I held him up when he fell; I supported him; I loved him. I became his foundation, building him high until he blocked out all else; he was all I was.
Now, he's dead. Fallen in battle. A poisoned arrow struck him down, calling him home. On that bloody field my life collapsed with his, for without him, I know one not. I was wounded, yet I paid it no mind, flooded by my grief; both crippled me.
Unwanted by his successor, I was thrown from the castle into a life I cannot know: a life for which I am too old, too derelict -- too crippled. There is nothing for me here, so now I find myself on a bluff above the sea, staring into its endless green oblivion.
Mournfully a gull cries, its call breaking through the crashing of the waves that call me home. The skies are gray, fittingly dismal, and for that I am thankful; it makes my task easier. The gull calls again, urging me on. Closing my eyes, I take one step and fall to the pounding sea.
For what is the foundation that lacks its tower?
27-Apr-2010 08:42:59
- Last edited on
13-Sep-2014 22:41:16
by
Chuk
