A prince from a far away kingdom was having a spiritual conversation with the love of his life, a princess from a far away land, thus spiritually debating life, death and purpose at his royal estate near his royal palace contemplating his royal kingdom through his vast royal windows that were open wide by his mentor, servant and most distinguished royal butler.
Lucian, his esteemed name was, while holding his beloved, sipping his wine asked her about freedom and it's meaning. after a moment, her hand slowly raised his chin and pointed towards the evening star.
Smiling, he thought to himself that one time too many have they debated over the beautiful things in life, for theirs was beautiful indeed, thus he felt an unstoppable urge to raise a whole different kind of question on which both of them could meditate upon.
So sudden were his thoughts that his beloved lady couldn't help but notice a quick to fade grin on her beloved's face.
Thus he asks: What is horror? What is so horrible to a mind that it shuts it's doors and windows or forces it to superhuman will in order to escape ?
They knew not all kingdoms fared as well as theirs and not all lands were as welcoming to the feet and they knew not all people were as kind and wise and welcoming as theirs. So they threw thought over distant seas to the barbaric nations, a mixture of kin and faith heard of only in old men's stories or dusty decaying books. She thought such places cannot be, for without order and knowledge like those found within the kingdom, what hope is there for any realm to prosper and see reason become fact ?
He however knew better. He remembers still being woken by his chains... The tall man, tied in chains, his hands scarred and painted, his face covered, that the royal guards were once moving though the palace courtyard into the cellars. His butler used to tell him stories regarding the barbarian and his far away lands. Stories of blood, famine, death and suffering.
His commitment to the night's proposed question that he himself proposed was too great, and he would not let her denial get in the way. Philosophy was, as he knew all too well, the one living gift he had the obligation to grow and develop. So he thought and thought he did, for when meeting eyes with his beloved he saw the evening star dimly shining within them.
And remembered freedom.
And in the blink he turned facing the star. And it was free, for it was not of earth. And he knew he was free, for he was not of those barbaric far reaches. For what if he had been ? A mind such as his, touching the heavens as it was, chained among beasts and savages, his delicate feet left to walk the edgy rocks, his philosophies met by heavy fists to his teeth ?
Her grace, the princess let slip the glass of wine, hands fisted to her mouth, eyes wide, throat silent, for she had seen for the first time in her life her beloved's face turn white, his smile erased and cheeks teared.
Lucian, his esteemed name was, while holding his beloved, sipping his wine asked her about freedom and it's meaning. after a moment, her hand slowly raised his chin and pointed towards the evening star.
Smiling, he thought to himself that one time too many have they debated over the beautiful things in life, for theirs was beautiful indeed, thus he felt an unstoppable urge to raise a whole different kind of question on which both of them could meditate upon.
So sudden were his thoughts that his beloved lady couldn't help but notice a quick to fade grin on her beloved's face.
Thus he asks: What is horror? What is so horrible to a mind that it shuts it's doors and windows or forces it to superhuman will in order to escape ?
They knew not all kingdoms fared as well as theirs and not all lands were as welcoming to the feet and they knew not all people were as kind and wise and welcoming as theirs. So they threw thought over distant seas to the barbaric nations, a mixture of kin and faith heard of only in old men's stories or dusty decaying books. She thought such places cannot be, for without order and knowledge like those found within the kingdom, what hope is there for any realm to prosper and see reason become fact ?
He however knew better. He remembers still being woken by his chains... The tall man, tied in chains, his hands scarred and painted, his face covered, that the royal guards were once moving though the palace courtyard into the cellars. His butler used to tell him stories regarding the barbarian and his far away lands. Stories of blood, famine, death and suffering.
His commitment to the night's proposed question that he himself proposed was too great, and he would not let her denial get in the way. Philosophy was, as he knew all too well, the one living gift he had the obligation to grow and develop. So he thought and thought he did, for when meeting eyes with his beloved he saw the evening star dimly shining within them.
And remembered freedom.
And in the blink he turned facing the star. And it was free, for it was not of earth. And he knew he was free, for he was not of those barbaric far reaches. For what if he had been ? A mind such as his, touching the heavens as it was, chained among beasts and savages, his delicate feet left to walk the edgy rocks, his philosophies met by heavy fists to his teeth ?
Her grace, the princess let slip the glass of wine, hands fisted to her mouth, eyes wide, throat silent, for she had seen for the first time in her life her beloved's face turn white, his smile erased and cheeks teared.
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careful what you wish for :)) cause someone else might wish the opposite