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|Author||The brown prince who fell|
|A small empire, ever shrinking, ruled by a benevolent kind intoxicated by the luxuries of his court. He had virtually nothing, yet he had everything. Grey in years, his treasury was empty and armies thin, but his mind was content. He had found love after various attempts, he had good sons, his childhood friends still with him at the court - this was a good life. It was no life of luxury, it was a life devoid of ambition. He had nothing, yet he had everything. He was kind, yet he was stern. He had a proud ancestry and he was not loath to mentioning that every chance he got.|
Our emperor was skilled at war; and yet he never fought. He was a renowned diplomat; and yet he knew nothing of the great wars ravaging the lands. His country was barren but there were no taxes. It was a peaceful existence. There was no violence, and crime was unheard of. There were rich noble men who preferred the ways of the emperor. They spent their time on more productive uses like sciences. art, astronomy and literature. Life was peaceful.
Most of those who were ambitious had left the city. They wanted to make their fortune in trade or try their luck in war, but there was nothing but happiness and idleness with this emperor. They left slowly but surely, in ones and twos. But this did not affect the nobility. The nobility was intoxicated and engaged. They lived their life without ambition. They were perfect in more ways than none; yet there was no ambition. It was frustrating.
Frustrating to the young courtiers. Warm blood raged through their veins. They dreamt of war and glory. History was not enough, they wanted a present that was glorious. They wanted to lead, not serve. Fool hardiness of youth or dreams of the brave, it is impossible to figure. But they believed they could have it all. The glory, the battles, they were ready to face the unknown.
There was one brown bespectacled soldier in the ranks, slightly built, not very tall. He was unremarkable in every way. But his mother forgot to tell him about his frailties. His favorite pastime was dreaming. He would dream of vast empires, he would dream of infinite treasures, he would dream of comraderie, and he would dream of leading large armies. He thought there were no bounds to achievement. He was not practiced in war, he did not have an inheritance; he was not even a scholar. He was not very noble and he was not very honest. He was not even from this city. His parents were outsiders who had been ousted from their previous lands. They found this city to be a perfect refuge and decided to settle there. There was nothing remarkable about this boy, nothing at all. And nor will there ever be. He was just a brown bespectacled boy with dreams.
He was a loud mouth too! Oh, if you were there, he would tell you tales and paint a reality in front of your eyes. You never really trusted him. He was not very forthcoming. Yet, there was something about him. He thought he could change history. Every morning, some old wise courtiers would laugh at him or pity him for his efforts, but silently, there were those who agreed. There were some soldiers of great reknown in the court too. They had given up their warring ways and came to the court in search of peace and shelter. But a soldier's blood lust never leaves him. They started to buy into the dreams this boy was selling.
And so our lore begins. It is not one of glorious wars or sainthood, it is about an unremarkable protagonist who relied on begging and perseverance. It is not about a leader, he never understood how to lead. But it is about a prince who came to be through the sheer power of will. It is a war epic that features more words than weapons. He did change history; or maybe, he simply lived in an age where history changed swiftly. As you follow the unlikely prince's journey through time, try to shine a kind light. At every step, he was selfish yet selfless, a friend yet aloof; and a patriot yet a tyrant. He was the best of us and he also had the worst
|traits. Without a benevolent eye, the screen would be a maze of errors. But with a compassionate torch, you would see a very narrow road the soon-to-be-prince was trying to follow. The boy was going to dream his way into history and he did not even know it then. |