Rielus
Legacy Name: Rielus

Would my mother be proud?

I suppose she might have been: I had come a long way from the small, sickly boy of seven, sparring casually with my father in-amongst our chickens and cows. But what about now? After everything I did-- after everything I was accused of doing? The entire country turned their backs to me. And even my mother, bless her, could not be proud of me today: strung up against a wall, within a cage, deep within a fortress.

According to the guards, I'm set to be executed tomorrow.

According to the guards, I have a visitor.

The moment Neyle walks into the room, I realize I've been expecting her this entire time. The princess-- no, the queen-- dismisses the guards, who leave with a bit more prompting. She sits down on the cold stone ground, her back up against the wall across from me. She brings her knees to her chest and folds her arms over them and looks at me. I realize she isn't looking so much at me, but at what I stand for. What I represent. The fact that I am here, in this room with her, is physical proof that her father lies in a tomb somewhere, without a pulse to call his own. I represent the authority and the responsibility that has been thrust upon her. I am her father's murderer.

She says nothing, and neither do I. She stays for quite some time, and is quiet all the while. She gets up and walks to the door, addressing the soldier at the door. "He is to be released, and he is to be returned his ranks. Have the keep fix him a room in the castle. "

Then she gone, again, and in her wake she has dropped the pieces of my life. The guard unhappily undoes my binds and I fall to the floor; my legs are weak and cannot hold my weight. He leaves me there but props the door. I fumble around a bit, and wonder if I'll ever be able to put it back together.