The king woke up that evening, tired and distressed. The entire kingdom was in shambles, and it was all his fault. If he hadn't been so eager to prove himself, none of this would have happened. How was he supposed to fix this? All of his desperate attempts to show his people how strong and brave he was had gone much too far. Now, it was up to him to regain their trust. Outside, it was chaos. His whole town was transformed in to an angry mob of protestors, holding up multiple signs. “WE DON’T WANT YOU! AS OUR KING!” “PROVE YOUR ‘WORTH’ SOMEWHERE ELSE!” a few of the signs read in big, red, angry letters. The king sighed. His people were right. He had let them all down. Many lives had been lost and many homes destroyed. All because of his stupid, selfish actions. He groaned inwardly. He couldn’t see any way out of this, other than go to the ones causing this monstrosity. The enemy. The one he had provoked war with. He had to go and apologise, as much as it would hurt his pride and shame his village. He quickly got changed, then slowly walked down the many stairs, feeling his guards and servants stare as him as he went by. He never used to feel like this, the hairs rising on his back. He still remembered the time when he was proud of his village, when they all helped each other and lived in peace as a noble settlement. But he’d wanted to be more than just average. He’d wanted to rise beyond the neighbouring villages, not caring about what he destroyed to get there. What he destroyed. He cringed, and lowered his head further. He could still hear her piercing screams, still feel the heat of the flickering flames that blocked him from the only love he had known in her life. It was these flames that he despised so much. These flames, that had consumed two perfect lives. One life of his wife, still young and fair, and one life of his son, barely a day old. It had not been their time to leave yet. As he neared the doors, a guard spoke, almost hesitantly. “K.. King Harry? M… Might I s… suggest you don’t go out today? You’re not exactly… er… popular among the villagers right now,” he said, shuffling his feet anxiously. King Harry pushed open the doors none the less. “I caused this,” he said, raising his eyes, “And I must fix it.” As he stepped outside, hushed murmurs rippled through the crowd. “My people,” he announced, and the murmurs were replaced with glares, “I have let you down. Every single one of you. But my village shall not hide and whimper. We shall go and seek out peace like we used to do!” He waited for cheers. The air remained stonily silent. His shoulders sagged and he rubbed his forehead. “I have lost just as much as you,” he said, his voice breaking off at the end, “But I must at least try to make up for it.” He said, then pushed his way through the crowd, unaware that the angry gazes turned to looks of sympathy as he set off.
550 points for Short Story 543 words in total
