Of Times Past – By Ian Vehrmt

Treading heavily through the moon-lit fields, the air became colder with each step. Winter was coming.
No – winter had already arrived. The fires behind me were slowly dying down, and small flakes started blanketing the valley.

There was little hope for our cause now; I moved forward solely because it was the only thing I’d ever known. From the first time I picked up the sword, as a child – and till those hours, the last hours I would serve as a king, I had known no defeat. Into countless battles, I had charged without fear; my faith, and that of my men, had never wavered. In those countless battles, we forged our kingdom, our legacy – a new empire built upon the lands of death and war – the defeated souls of those around us. We had stripped the other nations of their pride and blood, and within them we had sown the seeds of fear. There was no mercy for the weak, no kindness, no moral right or wrong. We did all that we had to in order to ensure complete victory. We guarded against every danger, and broke every spirit that would oppose us.

Many would call me a cold and cruel leader; but I’d done the things I had out of love for my own country. It is my fate, as that of others who’ve devoted themselves completely without care for their own well-being, that I should be hated by the others.

There was little nobility left in my blood, and there was even less blood still flowing through me. My wounds would not let me live throughout the night.

Each step heavier, we moved on. We were few: A handful of men stood round as guards, my worried queen and sons walked beside me. The grass was swaying indifferently in the gentle blow of the wind. My breathing became heavier. The queen turned to me:
“Stop, Arias. You drive yourself too hard – you will kill yourself if you go any further.”
“And should I stop, who would push these last few forward?”
“I shall, my king, I shall.” said my eldest son.
“I will not forfeit my duty in the last hour. I would meet my end oblivious to the choice I make now; let me meet it as a king.”
The troubled voices died down. For miles around, one could only hear the faint sound of grass, and the odd beast of the night. On top of that, the sound of armour, the song of chains; it was that song that kept me going, a song I did not want to stop.