Voices. So many voices that I can't recognize. I can feel the hint of anxiety hanging like
a cloud throughout the room. But, this
isn't my room. Slowly I crack open my
eyes to the bright fluorescents. Figures
I can only assume are human scurry about me and you can actually taste the
bitter tension radiating off their bodies.
I move my lips to speak only to find that my body will not obey my
order. Suddenly, I lack the ability to
even breathe.
"He's lost too
much blood, he's going into hypovolemic shock," a man states from right next to
my head.
This isn't
right, I am not suppose to be the one here dying from blood loss. I am the lightning count, the invincible
Zechs Merquise. I am not the one who
was supposed to loose that battle, and I should not be the one here fighting
for my life. In such a lowly battle,
the valiant should not fall. Not that I
deserve to live either.
I have battled
for years, taking lives with barely a second thought. Fighting within a mobile suit takes the persona out of the
participants. They are huge metal
monsters whose soul is the human being within it. I could only imagine how war was waged before machines. Back when you had to face your enemy.
I wasn't always
this way. There was a time when my life
wasn't lived to kill. There was a point
in time when my life was filled with happiness. But, that time feels like a lifetime ago. I can barely recall the
faces of my parents. They were kind
people dedicated to the sanctity of peace.
My father a noble man and king of the Sanc Kingdom. My mother was a free spirited woman who
devoted her life to her country and then to her family.
~~ The warm summer breeze carries the scent of the sea to my
chambers. Standing by the open window I
breathe in the fresh smells of the morning before pondering what activities the
day will bring. Yesterday had taken me
to the palace's garden. I spent hours trying to loose myself in the
well-manicured "forest". I could almost
imagine the creatures that could dwell in such a place.
'Today will be
just as wonderful', I promise myself as I take off running down the hall. I pass by expensive tapestries from the 18th
century and bright ornaments scattered slightly out of reach, but only one of
those pieces catches my attention. It
reaches for me and draws me closer. I
tentatively touch the gleaming metal. I
admire the precise lines that create the razor sharp edge. The delicate quality that creates the deadly
but noble instrument causes a shiver to run down my spine.
"Master
Milliardo, you shouldn't be touching that," a highly familiar voice states from
behind me startling me out of my reverie.
As I quickly turn to face Mayle, a woman who has been working in the
palace since before I was born. "Your
father would be most upset if he knew that you took a liking to that hateful
weapon."
"But Mayle if
father hates war so much, why does he have this weapon here?"
"I never ask
your father why he does such things.
Even though I have worked here for so long, I'm sure he wouldn't
hesitate to put me out of a job. Now
you, young master, must make your way into the dining room. You know how angry your father gets if you
don't eat a proper breakfast."
I steal one last
glance and the sword before continuing on my morning journey. I only make it half way to my destination
before I am stopped by a soft sound. I
tiptoe my way to the door that was blocking the sound from me and gently push
open the door. The sight that greets me
makes my smile grow even wider. I watch
as my young sister holds her arms open wide beckoning my mother for a warm
embrace. The bright grin on her face
could light up the entire room. Ever
since she was born she has always seemed to be the perfect child, always happy
and did whatever she was told. I, on
the other hand, always found myself on the short end of my father's temper.
Turning from the
scene I resume my travel to the dining room where I am sure my father is still
sitting, waiting for me to join him. He
did that every morning, I assume it's because he wants me to feel like he's a
part of my life even though I barely ever see him. He is usually off in meetings with political leaders. He tries his best, but it's not like having
a real father there. I always wish for
a storybook father, one who will take you out to the park or play a game with
you. Instead I have to find my
entertainment by myself or with the swarms of palace workers. Mayle was the one
who usually spent time with me since she has practically replaced my father in
my life.
I finally arrive
at the dining room where I find my father sitting at the head of the long oak
table. His hands support his head as he
eyes me from across the room. "You're late
this morning Milliardo."
It is at this
time that I realize that my father was not sitting there alone this
morning. "I apologize father, it was
wrong of me to keep you waiting."
"Milliardo, I'd
like you to met Senator Darlian."
"Pleased to met
you sir," I state with a bow before turning to take my place in one of the high
backed chairs.
"What a fine boy
you have your majesty," Senator Darlian states to my father, as if I'm not
sharing the room with them. "I was
wondering if I could discuss the issue of the Alliance Military with you. It seems that their attacks are getting
closer to our kingdom. I'm afraid that
if we don't take action now we'll find ourselves as the next target. We can't stand against a force like that."
"We will
continue with the present course of actions Senator. If we continue to
negotiate the Alliance will see that we are right in our course of actions and
therefore not attack us. It is only a
matter of time before pacifism spreads through out this world." My father is so adamant about his beliefs
that he can't imagine why one would not adopt them for their own.
"But your
majesty, does it not bother you that your people might be attacked?"
"I understand
your concern, but I know that that will never happen Senator. The Alliance will come to their senses
soon. In the mean time, I hope that you
find some more pressing issues to discuss with me."
"Yes sir." I can tell that the Senator is extremely
upset from the meeting as he sulks out of the room. I have no understanding of the conversation, but I can tell that
my father is not in the best of moods either.
I had barely begun eating my breakfast when my father tells me to
leave. Confused, I leave the table
sparing my father a last glance before exiting the room.
