“We were just a village in a kingdom small but proud

life was simple, people kind, and fields were always ploughed

then the hero swept away our army and our king

overnight my family was stripped of everything

The hero of the empire was as strong as he was cruel

his magic ushered in that evil empire’s iron rule

now the empire’s fallen, but the dead will not return

if there’s a hell for heroes then forever he will burn”

The elder fell asleep after they talked a little while

the pilgrim simply nodding as he wore a bitter smile

he rested for a while but soon was back upon the road

burdened by a debt he couldn’t pay but might’ve owed

Morning came and still he walked along a dusty path

passing fields which long ago had faced his fiery wrath

still he felt the magic of his battles in the air

everywhere he fought for glory now was dead and bare

He came upon another town and hoped to rest his feet

but there was not a living face around him for to meet

there he found some water and a room where he could stay

but there he found no comfort and he soon was on his way

He didn’t dwell in any broken house or barren field

nor wonder if he’d ever see a broken village healed

maybe if he travelled far enough he’d find a place

where poverty and hunger weren’t on every person’s face

The more he faced the evidence of wars that he had fought

the less he felt like staying in the old empire to rot

“so there are places not even a hero can protect

but still I did my best to have a positive effect”

He reassured himself that he had always done what’s right

that it was fate and not his heart that haunted him at night

the shadows were just remnants of the battles he had won

surely he could rest now that his glory days were done

Living off the land as he enjoyed when he was young

eating any fish he caught or any fruit that hung

after many weeks and months of travelling alone

wearily he swore he’d make a better life his own

He found a city on the road that seemed to be alive

it wasn’t perfect but it was a place he could survive

there he’d start again and do more simple jobs to live

and take whatever payment that the guild in town would give

He found a bar where maybe he could find some work to do

a friendly patron smiled and offered him a drink or two

the pilgrim didn’t hesitate and shook the patrons hand

and claimed he was a mercenary from a foreign land

The two enjoyed a drink together talking of the town

but the pilgrim noticed gradually the bar had settled down

when he looked behind him at the other people there

every eye was on him with a cold, suspicious stare

Someone pointed to a wall where several posters hung

and when the pilgrim noticed it he almost bit his tongue

the faded picture hanging in the centre of the wall

was a wanted poster of the hero known to all

The man who bought his drink had fallen off his chair in fear

the pilgrim new his only choice would be to disappear

he ran toward the door and chaos hit the quiet bar

and news of his existence spread before he’d gotten far

The city soon was overcome with panic, fear, and rage

rumours had already spread, he’d fled the empire’s cage

soldiers, knights, and volunteers all ran into the street

to kill the man who led the world to hell with his deceit

“Someone stop that monster please, before he kills again

burn him like he burned alive so many brave young men

the leader of the empire’s reign of pain is in our hands

let us take revenge and kill the demon where he stands”

The wanted man just ran with all his might, not looking back

away from all the vengeful cries of those who would attack

he fled into the woods and ran until he couldn’t stand

far away from any life he ever might have planned

~