More than saddle-sore, the soldier’s weary legs trembled at every step. A heart full of icy fear, he tried to stoke with his dying anger. Dying with him. As the world faded, so did his hatred dull. That ember, that memory, which had always warmed him until now, he could not breathe into life. Or, just barely: a man, a stranger, parading through the streets of his home. It was senseless to him. He could not even name the emperor anymore, the man, the figurehead he had sworn to fight with his dying breath. Now, no more breaths were his.
Soldier: Death
Tale Told 