08-30-2015, 12:07 AM
" I'd Rather Die Young , "
He was a failure as a leader, and he is no longer afraid to admit it. He was upset when Eight came out of nowhere to dethrone him—who wouldn’t be?—but he has long since accepted that. He had only stayed because he had hoped his grey lady would return to him, and she had! She came back and blessed him with a beautiful daughter, only to vanish again, leaving their golden girl—and him—behind. That was the final straw and he, too, abandoned the kingdom he loved. Eight came along after him to pick up the pieces he had shattered his kingdom into. He is not ashamed anymore of his kingship. He has done nothing to be ashamed of.
Aside from abandoning their newborn daughter. He has no idea if the child had survived infanthood—he almost wishes that she has perished. There is nothing worse than leaving a child for dead. If she has survived, she has grown up alone in a harsh world. Hopefully she isn’t in the Valley still, but he wouldn’t be surprised if she were drawn to the kingdom of her birth; she is royalty, after all. He isn’t sure, though. She was a stubborn foal and she probably wouldn’t have liked Eight too much. The thought brings a half-smile to his face. She deserves to be happy, wherever she is. Alive or dead, he wants nothing but the best for his only daughter. He has abandoned everything he has ever cared for, yet still he wonders if she remembers him. If the Valley remembers him.
He misses home, but he cannot go back.
He can never go back.
It’s already been half a decade since he last looked upon his kingdom as its king, and he misses it more than he rightfully should. He still remembers the day he had stormed into Kindling’s declaration, claiming the Valley as his and not hers. They had hated each other those first few days, but it hadn’t taken them long to convince Frejya (unbeknownst to him, his half-sister through the former ruler of a neighboring kingdom) that the kingdom was theirs for the taking. They had worked to build the kingdom back up from the deathly silence it had fallen into under the previous rule. The Valley had been theirs. He had power and a woman he convinced to love him. He had enemies—don’t they all?—and those he dared call friends.
He has no thirst for power anymore. He lost that thirst when he lost Kindling (again). He cannot count the number of times she has slipped through the cracks like water tumbling down a streambed. There has been no trace of her in the six years since he’s seen her last; she might not even be alive anymore. He cannot stand the thought… there’s no way she could’ve died—he would’ve known, somehow. Their fates are too intertwined. She, like him, has just vanished. That’s all that has happened to them. He may live the rest of his life alone, but it is better than living alone and knowing that the light of his life is dead. Because she’s alive.
Somewhere.
oxytocin