….
The prince stared at the view from the balcony, the place where the royal family, who stood in the shoulders of giants, would observe the people they ruled, it's a tradition that most of the royal family would just spend their afternoon gazing at the lives of the people they ruled; they needed to in order for them to not forget that the people they ruled were people, and they were royalty they could not put themselves in the place of a shepherd tending to his sheep nor a farmer to his crops, no, they were ruling living people; and every time they spend an afternoon just observing the daily lives of the demacian citizens, acted as a reminder that they bear a responsibility not to be taken likely . Like clockwork the mundane lives of the demacian people went on, some actions differ, some actions were the same but all in all they were normal. The prince had a dream, to protect, to die for his proud nation-even if he took out just a dozen of men who had ill intentions in their minds; he would still be happy, for he knew that one less enemy to face is one less life that may have come to an end. The prince even wanted to end all wars, to make a world where hands are used as tools and not as weapons, where men are not used as soldiers that could be disposed of with one pierce to the heart, where people do not takes lives so lightly, both theirs and their enemies.
But he knew that this was a foolish dream. War will continue because people will always find a way to hate someone, and that person wouldn't be the only one, that which he hates would also hate and that person who is hated upon will also hate, until finally we forget the meaning of hate, and just define it as a means to take another's life who is different from us, and soon after that the definition of peace, love, joy-would be lost forevermore, buried-for they are no longer used, no longer uttered by the lips of any person living in this world, a child would grow up and not say any of those words-for a child learns better if presented an example, and in the future no one would be an exemplar.
"Good afternoon 4th, still full of angst, ha?!"
A voice the prince had recognized all too well came from behind him-the man who had embodied the voice was none other than his grandfather, Jarvan the 2nd. He wore a majestic dark violet bathrobe, made out of some soft fabric that embraced his skin in warmth, apart from that, that is all that he wore. He had a grin rivaling those of sea captains at sea sailing with their crew, it helped that he had a beard that reached his chest just as they did, just as scraggly and long. He had no head of hair, only a shiny dome were his once majestic locks were placed in his youth, though if he did he would have the same kind of scraggly grey color that his beard had. This man, the prince's grandfather did not fit royalty, an average first impression of the man would be to think of him as a homeless person, a bum, or a drunk-to put it lightly. This man would not fit to be royalty, but he was, and he was a ruler loved by all, probably because he stood in equal footing with the people he ruled.
"Grandfather, how obscene, you are royalty!"
"Eh, was royalty, 4th. Now I am merely just an old man, full of wisdom."
After that comment the prince's grandfather chuckled like an old drunk in a tavern, the prince could only sigh as he could not believe that the once prideful king, was merely in the level of the village fool.
"Full of wisdom, yet you prance around like a man stripped of all dignity."
"You know me, I do what I can to make people see me as another-equal person, not a king, or a king of king that is even greater than the current king himself, I do what I can to make you comfortable, be it to dress like a guard to talk to the guards or to dress like a fool to talk to a fool, I do what I can to ensure that we are in equal footing."
"Then should you not be talking to a fool, right about now?" The prince asked still quite disinterested.
The 2nd chuckled once more now more booming than the previous. And slowly the prince comprehended what this all meant.
"Surely, you do not think of me as a fool, grandfather."
The prince declared with a defensive voice directed at the man who basically named him a fool.
"I guess you are not that foolish, but still-you are a big fool, the 4th."
After that remark the prince was visibly infuriated, both he and his grandfather were of noble blood but yet here they are both calling each other fools, a game played by hooligans on the streets with nothing better to do with their lives.
"What makes you say that I am, grandfather? I do not walk like a fool nor do I speak like a fool, nor do I look like a fool, how could I possibly fit the description of a fool? Only a fool would call someone of my stature a fool."
"Absolutely, a man who calls you a fool would be a fool himself, you are a prince after all, charming, strong-surely, a person who would call you a fool is, in all sense of the word a fool himself. But what truly makes him foolish? Is it because he calls someone who is in no way a fool, a fool? Or is it because he calls someone who belongs to royalty a fool?"
The prince's face instantly shifted from annoyed to stone faced, expressionless for he knew now why his grandfather was doing all of these foolish things.
"It looks like you understand now, you understand where all of this is going, correct? A wise fool you are. Tell me, what do you call a man who repeatedly slams his head against the wall, pounds his fist to the ground and puts his body through pain without the intention of dying? I call a man like that, well, a fool. A big fool who does not know what to do next…"
The old man inched closer, his face in a scowl drawing near to face the prince.
"…Hey, 4th…kill yourself…"
The prince was still expressionless on the outside but god knows if he felt his heart shatter by that declaration.
"Kill yourself, if not, stop beating yourself up. I raised a prince, not a little girl full of angst to the point where she would make journal entries in her diary just to make herself feel better. You were raised to wear a crown on your head not a ribbon-
"You do not understand what horror I have witnessed with my own very eyes, and that things I could not have done with these pair of hands, I could not wield any weapon to save even a single soul nor do this mouth which begged those monsters to spare the lives of my men and in deaf ears, were ignored, merely interpreted as a whisper in the wind. This body is useless, I could not save a single life…even my own, I have someone else to thank for that. So tell me, grandfather; what is this body good for. What am I good for, being used as a mere berserker who charges to battle and greets death with open arms is the only road for me now…"
The prince interrupted as his mouth burst with venomous feeling he kept dormant inside his body all this time.
"4th, you are royalty, you are of noble blood, the 4th generation of kings who rule, you do not have a single path, whether you be a prince or a mere merchant; everyone has more than one destiny they can follow."
"Yes, but even if the road we travel to leads us to a fulfilling life; the end will always be the same, death. We will not make it out alive even if we try our hardest, be the most righteous of kings, the bravest of heroes or the kindest of people, we will not make it out alive the road will always end with death waiting for us at the last stretch of road."
The old man gripped the demacian prince's shoulders with both of his old bony hands, his eyes full of a look which gave of a vibe of both disappointment and impatience.
"Of course it ends in death, you fool! All that matters is what people remember you for, your legend, will you be remembered as a ruler, a king who was kind, fair, and in the level of the people you rule? Or will you be remembered as the king who wears women's panties on his head and treat his people like his personal diary where he will be bitching and bitching and bitching all day long until he is finally assassinated? Which is the path that you will walk on?"
The previous king declared with a loud angry voice, clearly tired of the prince's angst that could be compared to that of a spoiled noble. The two were silent as the old man freed the prince's shoulder from his hands, the prince finally understood, though he had different ideals than his grandfather, he could still understand how eye opening the ideals of his grandfather was. They both gazed to the outside, whether they have been looking at their people or just the afternoon sky no one could really tell.
"4th, you are a glass sword not a glass cannon. You are not a mage who could shoot from afar expecting that once your enemies reach you then it would all be worth it; for you did what you can-eliminated a handful of your adversaries, you did what you can to protect your people. Once I say it out loud it does not even seem that you are a glass sword, you are a glass shield. A shield is meant to protect, meant to be the symbol of strength, a shield is mighty and does not crumble by just any blade, all in all the shield is meant to be strong…but a shield made out of glass is something else entirely. You are a glass shield, you want to protect, you do what you can to protect, yet you cannot protect everyone-you cannot even protect anyone."
The prince head felt heavy for he bowed his head like its weight was the same as a ton load of bricks.
"You throw yourself lower and lower to the pit of unimportance, you are a prince yet you value your life no less than a single grass leaf, you are willing to die just to end one life, is that how you value yourself? A simple barricade to hold off the enemies, is that how the prince of demacia values himself, 4th?"
"I cannot-
"You cannot what? You cannot value yourself high enough that you are willing to be just a simple body trampled by foot soldiers, just another piece of flesh on the ground plagued by war, unrecognizable due to how many feet have used your body like a simple carpet on the battlefield? You cannot what-
"I cannot protect them as their leader I would only lead my men to death-
"All roads lead to death, both soldiers and human alike, what is important is how your death will be remembered and what its impact on this world is. Will you be a man who did nothing with his life and is only remembered as a simple bum, even worse not remembered at all or will you be a legend, your stories passed down from ear to ear and remembered wholeheartedly, which one are you, the 4th?"
The prince was once again silenced he did not know what to say next, his grandfather was at the point of drilling his words into the prince's skull as a constant reminder of his ideals. The old man's red skull was growing lighter; he was calming down, his eyes trailed off to the expressionless face of the prince of demacia, his grandson, the pride of his pride, the boy who called him grandfather.
"Deaths lead to an effect. Be it to the world or to the people, your men followed you to hell because they knew that you will lead them to victory, but even so they were willing to die with you and to die for you, when they went through hell…
The old man coughed, his long sentences were taking a toll on his aging throat.
"When they went through hell with weapons drawn, they went through hell protecting their freedom, when they went through hell with the knowledge that most if not all of them will make it out alive…when they went through hell, they made it a battlefield…but even so, when they went through hell….they did not expect for you to leave them there…"
The old man coughed once more, his voice growing raspy with every word.
"When they went through hell they did not make it out…but I would like to think that they were smiling when your body was spared. Their lives were valuable, but how come it lead to…you? You are not a prince that I once knew, you are not my grandson…you are but a pale shadow-Nay, not even a shadow just a mere mannequin dressed as my grandson, very poorly at that. Those lives were not sacrificed in order to create such a disgrace of a prince, a man-a man who labels himself lower than a man…"
He stopped and once again grabbed the shoulders of his grandson.
"Even so, you are my grandson. I know the prince is inside of you, the prince I once knew, until you are awakened then I would have to make sure that you do not die…
"Grandfather…
"You are but a mere glass shield. Glass will not survive the great barrier, 4th…"
"You knew?"
"Of course I knew, you two were as loud as bloody sirens. But I know something that would make even glass, as strong as diamond…"
The old man walked away and gestured for the prince to follow him. They walked together to the place where only the old man knew…
"You will learn to call forth the ancient kings…you will learn, the golden aegis…"
The old man said as his eyes stared blankly towards the next halls leading to their destination…
…