I write to you today from the comfort of my bed chambers and
within walls of the tranquil manor I have established in the Northern reaches
of the realm. I write to you because there have been whispers in the streets…
…whispers, of another call to arms.
Roughly 1 year ago I found myself shuffling through the
mundane tasks of my ordinary routine, wondering if there was more to this life,
or if I was destined to live out the rest of my days in unremarkable mediocrity.
What transpired next was not the result of some glaring
enlightenment, nor was it a response to a life-changing event. I simply made a
decision. It was a decision to break free of the bonds that held me captive in this
dungeon of depression, uncertainty, and fear. And just like that, a dream was born
and an insuppressible desire overcame me.
I would become the King of this empire.
I did not know at the time how I would achieve the title,
nor what kind of sacrifices it would entail, but I knew that once I sat upon
that throne and gazed down upon my domain, none of that would matter.
And so, Ser Daniel of Leesburg, Ser Anthony of Richmond, and
I, Ser Guyelle of the North Naruto, began our crusade. Under the tutelage of
the Hanson Brothers we forged a plan to train in the art of swordplay and
warfare, raise armies, and tear through the countryside laying waste to all
those territories that did not recognize me as the one true King of these
lands.
The initial excitement at the prospect of taking the throne
by force and becoming the most powerful man in the realm slowly faded, soon to be
replaced by the harsh realization that this journey would not be as easy as I
had originally envisioned. During the summer months the sun beat down upon our
exposed backs and furiously scorched the earth with heat akin to that of a
dragon’s breath. The battles were bloody and the marches seemed to last an
eternity. Our armies suffered many injuries and casualties. Even Ser Anthony
lost his leg in one particularly grisly battle and had to reluctantly remove
himself from the campaign.
There were times when I began to question my desire. I
contemplated halting my expedition and returning to the safety of my dull yet comfortable
life on the farm. And yet, with the fleeting hope that somehow all these trials
and tribulation would be worth it at the end, I pressed forth.
The war took me to the far corners of the world.
I traveled to Flagstaff Arizona to learn and train from the legendary warriors,
Maxwell of the South Sasuske(the soberest of humans but the fiercest of
fighters) and the slight, mysterious assassin known only as Le Yeesh; To the seductive
and musical streets of Nashville; To the eastern coast of the realm known as
the Outer Banks, where the sun is unforgiving the roads are long and tedious.
Once I traveled to Richmond and went to do battle alongside Anthony only a day
after being wounded by a swarm of the legendary giant Wasps of Ashburn that
reside under my back deck.
Months crawled by. Summer came and went. The brisk and cool
air of Fall arrived. As we marched closer to my birthright, I caught sight of
my reflection one morning in the calm autumn waters of a nearby stream. The
face that stared back at me was not that of the soft and unsure boy who left
home 4 months earlier with a dream and a sword. The face that now stared back
belonged to a man whose body had become lean and battle-hardened, whose
demeanor was calm and prepared, whose eyes were tired but focused.
Alas, on November 16th I had finally arrived outside
the gates of my destiny. My kingdom loomed before me, and I stood primed and
ready to take my seat on the throne. Though the keep cast an immense shadow
across my army, my skills in battle had been honed the previous 6 months with
the toll of a thousand souls and so we stormed the gates with the discipline
and confidence that had been forged from countless battles heretofore.
The siege lasted only
2 hours and 35 minutes. I had won the crown.
The celebrations lasted days, the battle wounds healed, and I
basked in satisfaction for some time. My thirst for power had been quenched.
Truthfully, I did not want the crown, I only wanted to prove that I was capable
of attaining it. After the war, I gave up my title, retired to country side,
and soon once again found myself bored and anxious. Is this the end? Is this
all that I am capable of? Am I now destined to live out the rest of my years in
complacency? Can I die happy with that notion?
No, no, no, NO! I will make another decision!
I will take up arms once more! I will not just challenge the
realm, but I will challenge the world! I do not know where the road shall take
me, whether I shall finally satiate my desire to conquer and achieve all I set out
for, or whether I shall suffer a far fall from grace only to be remembered as a
fool and a failure, if remembered at all.
TAKE UP YOUR SWORDS MY BROTHERS AND RIDE WITH ME ONCE MORE!
Beyond that horizon is immortality…TAKE IT, IT’S YOURS.
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