First Light

The warmth from the day fades quickly as the darkness begins to overtake the lands. The comfort the sun provides to those unlucky enough to still be alive is slowly, with no mercy, being stolen away. This bit of comfort is all a man has left when he bleeds to death from an injury brought on by battle. The might of the sword has, for centuries, ruled mortal men. And its justice isn't always swift. Their leader, King Glennicus, can hear the distant moans of these poor souls. Yet he is unable to help. This King, who is loved by his people and respected by his men for being a kind and fair king to all, is sickened by the knowledge of his inability to help. The Brodyitte army is watching from a close distance, assuming their king will recover his fallen soldiers. Then they will surround these additional men, killing even more of Glennicuses army. At least, this is what the spies had told him. Therefore, he had but one choice. To bare the weight of which a king is required to do during times of battle. Choose between who will die a painful death and who will live another day to fight for his homeland.

To help ease his own pains caused by the death cries of his mortally wounded men, the king calls out for his scribe. He tells the scared and newly appointed boy to bring him his belongings. The King needs to write a letter to the Queen and he will use his own hand. The young scribe looks confused as the words of his king settle into his mind. Isnt it the job of the scribe to do this for the King? And before the scribe is able to ask the king this thought, Glennicus tells him "You are too young to die tomorrow. Upon first light, you will begin your travel back to our homeland and deliver my message to the Queen." For a moment, the scribe does nothing. Then the king breaks the moment with a simple wave of the hand and the scribe jumps to do as he was told.

It had only been a brief moment before the scribe returns with the Kings belongings, but it felt like an eternity to Glennicus. The cries of his men became even more clear. More chilling than they had been. The cold which the night brings causes more pain and suffering to those who are dying. As well as those, like Glennicus, who continue to live. Handing his King a lambskin sack branded with the royal insignia, the king cannot help but feel the guilt he now has, knowing he will soon be distracted by writing his message to his Queen. Their cries will become just a noise his ears can hear but his mind will not listen. And during this time of relief, it will but cause a new and different pain. The bite a man feels to his core when he is overcome with guilt. Yet, he has a duty to his Queen and his country. So, Glennicus begins his message. A message the king fears will be his final words to the love of his life.

"My Dearest Queen.

As news does not travel quickly in our world, I pray to the Gods this message is not a final goodbye. To never look to your face again, to never see the light within your eyes again, is a fate upon which no man deserves. However, I feel I may be just that man. Youdorium, my Queen and my love. It is with great regret and sorrow that I must tell you our chances for victory against the mighty Brodyitte army does not predict to be a favorable outcome for these men who stand in battle so bravely next to your King. Their King as well. And as their King, I shall be leading our warriors at first light into a battle which is as important as it is just. A battle for the continued existence of our lands. And of our people. For tomorrow, in the name and the honor of My Queen Youdorium, my horse shall be swift. My sword shall shine brighter than a thousand first lights. And the sound of my voice shall shake the hills of which we ride and fight. And die. If it is of any solace to you, the rivers and streams shall be filled with the blood of our rivals as their cries of agony replace the same cries to which our wounded suffered just the night before. Many of their men will die an honorable death. Yet we are but a few mortal men facing an army 100 times our size. I fear the royal blood that flows within me shall flow no more. I can only pray our efforts will be enough to defend our land from certain enslavement by our enemies.

Tomorrow, if the Gods look upon our army and your King, and I am able to send a rider with news, then it shall be done. If not, please know your King and your men, fought a brave battle against an unstoppable force. And pray that the Gods look upon you as well.

Until I hold you once more.

Your King, Glennicus."

Rolling the message and stowing it away into the hand of the young scribe, Glennicus is once again reminded of the crying he can hear just beyond his sight. The cries of great men who he loved and respected. Men who he had dined with, men he had laughed with and warriors he had slayed with. Their cries of pain radiate thru the King, as if he himself were the one dying. Unfortunately, his death will have to wait for another day. Turning to the scribe, he instructs him to begin his journey when the first light arrives. And no matter what he may hear or see, his only responsibility is keeping himself alive so that he can deliver the message to his Queen. No matter if Glennicus and his army perish as expected or not, his job is simple. Ride as fast as you can, as far as you can, without looking back. And to keep riding until he has reached His Majesty's castle and the Kings message falls into the Queens own hand. However, if by the grace of the Gods, the King is able to see yet another day, then he will send a second rider with a message to his queen, informing her of their victory.

Pausing to see that the scribe understood his orders, the King then offers him something his father, the previous King, had done for a young and scared Glennicus. "Fear is a good thing scribe. Don't fight it. Accept it. And use it to give you strength. I chose you for this because I know you will succeed." With that, the King gives him a single nod and a moment of comfort as the eyes of the hardened warrior latches onto those of a boy who, after today, will no longer feel the innocence of youth, the scribe turns from his leader and disappears into the darkness just beyond the light of the campfire. Exhausted from the days battle, the pains to which his stomach feels his guilt and the constant cries of his men, Glennicus doubts he will get any rest before the first light. Yet he hopes sleep finds him. And that he dreams no dreams. Only nightmares.

"Beep...Beep...Beep..."

Sleep is nowhere to be found and it does not surprise this leader of men. His guilt has pained his stomach immensely. The cries from the darkness, too heartbreaking.

"Beep...Beep...Beep..."

And now, the calling of the most unusual bird he has ever heard. From his comfortable place next to the fire where he laid his weary body, the King glances in all directions looking for this strange creature.

"Beep...Beep...Beep..."

He sees nothing. Only hears. He hears the distance cries, he hears the constant music of the bird's song. His stomach continues to feel the guilt. Yet somehow, some way, his eyes close and his body gives in to its primal need for rest. Glennicus is for at least the moment, grateful for the release that his slumber offers. Then, what felt like only seconds, he could feel the warmth of the arriving first light. He stands up tall, the cries of his wounded men are no longer heard. The bird no longer sharing its strange song. And his guilt no longer felt within him. Staring towards the first light, he can see the shapes of his fellow warriors, awaiting the arrival of their brave and fair and respected leader. Their King. Glennicus. He raises up from his bed made of earth, the nights fire long burnt out. He pays it no mind because the fire is no longer needed.

The king can feel the warmth from the first light as it surrounds him, offering a feeling of peace like nothing he had ever felt before. Reaching his men, they surround their King with greetings and together, as a single unit, they walk off towards the first light. Together, these warriors set off to write the final chapters of their lives. For Glennicus, it has been a life of a proud and noble King. A life of conquest and of failure. A life few can say they have lived. Yet this King walks towards the first light, knowing his was also a life of blessings. Proof of that is the unconditional love his Queen has given him. A love with no price to pay except for his love and loyalty in return for hers. A price this great man would gladly pay for an eternity if he could just hold his beloved Youdorium one final time.

The scribe would have but a single letter to deliver to his Queen. There would be no second rider. King Glennicus would see his Queen, his Youdorium, his love, never again...

The nurse who was working the night shift inside the ICU, noticed the beeping sounds from the heart monitor could no longer be heard. She walked into room number 231 to see why the monitor had become quiet. Opening the door, she sees the woman laying next to her husband on the bed. The nurse cant help but feel the love this woman has for this man, whos stomach has been ravaged by the force of his cancer. As she moved closer, she could tell he was gone. That explained why the monitor was no longer chirping. His heart had stopped, meaning his long suffering was no more. He really was a fighter the nurse thought to herself. Warrior like. He had been battling the cancer for months and now, his fight was finally over. His family and friends had gathered there the night before to say their goodbyes. Their cries rang throughout the ICU all night and into the pre-dawn morning.

Yet his wife never left his side. She was the one person who had been the strongest. Stoic the entire night. The nurse paused for just a moment, to admire without pity, the strength this woman showed for her husband. It literally made this veteran nurse of a busy ICU weep. But she still had a job to do. Reaching out to touch the womans shoulder, the nurse asked her if she was awake. The woman answers back, sounding not sad but with pride "His last words were he needed to get a message to his queen. And something about marching into battle." To which the nurse responds "Im so sorry. But its very common for a person to be delirious because of the heavy pain meds on board. They really don't know what their saying. Im so, so sorry." The woman sits up, gathers her poise, turns to the nurse and says politely...

"No. He knew what he was saying. He has called me his Queen from the very first day we met. And, he has been my king ever since." She pauses, glances to His Majesty, then continues... "Last night, my King said his goodbye to me. And I said mine to him. He has been so brave since he was first diagnosed, he's actually been the one supporting me throughout all of this. Just as he promised to do on our wedding day a million years ago." Her voice, a mixture or pride and sorrow, not missing a beat... "He vowed to dedicate his life to me. Well, my King lived up to his promise and I couldn't be more proud of him. I will live the rest of my life without his body next to mine, but I will never feel his love more than I do now." A single tear floats down one side of her face. Her strength allowed no more to follow.

With the dignity of a true royal, his Queen rose from his side. She then stood next to the bed her silent King rested upon. She bends, kisses his forehead and softly runs the back of her hand down the side of his lifeless cheek. From her own eye, she allows her second tear to fall upon her King. Her final act of love to the man who had been her reason for living, was but a whisper into his ear.

"Goodbye my King. My love. Until I hold you once more."