[ Midnight laughs. A story enjoyer... A woman after his own hear. (Well, he falls easily, but it's in earnest.) ]
He did become emperor. But, you know... An honest emperor in a position of power can only do so much. After all, the old emperor somehow cultivated a kingdom whose very children indulged in lies... How much more cunning were the parents of these children? How unapologetically, viciously indulgent in their greed? It was a stopgap solution for a problem that was far too old, too stubborn, too deeply rooted for one honest boy to repair on his own.
[ He gestures. He really is the sort to talk with his hands. ]
That boy was the last emperor. When he finally ascended to power, he dying emperor had concocted a plan which, in the boy's honesty, he enacted to the last detail. When all of the smaller countries and protectorships fell apart at the ascension of the new emperor, calling him an unsuited and unworthy ruler; when the very council under him revolted, split into pieces as scattered as the fall of autumn leaves, tearing itself and every part of the empire apart... At a moment of prescience, the boy abandoned his post, dressed in his village rags, took his family, and used the old emperor's landship, the only one of its kind, to flee the ruins of that empire. The only honest boy left in the kingdom, spared by his honesty.
[ Midnight shrugs. ]
It drove the poor boy mad, of course. He was honest, after all. "What does mere honesty do to separate me from my fellow man? It did nothing to save an entire empire from burning." Nothing his family could do could console him. He drove the landship into an ocean, beached it there... And he and his family lived there, safe from the world, but trapped. They never saw the sun again.
The weight of an empire's demise and all of the war resulting wore heavy on his shoulders. That boy and his seed saved three lives, but set nations on fire. All due to one old man's despair, his dying wish to accomplish one small, good thing in the face of insurmountable wickedness.
[ ... The end. Midnight ends it there, with the finality of someone who knows fairytales inevitably end this way. ]
no subject
He did become emperor. But, you know... An honest emperor in a position of power can only do so much. After all, the old emperor somehow cultivated a kingdom whose very children indulged in lies... How much more cunning were the parents of these children? How unapologetically, viciously indulgent in their greed? It was a stopgap solution for a problem that was far too old, too stubborn, too deeply rooted for one honest boy to repair on his own.
[ He gestures. He really is the sort to talk with his hands. ]
That boy was the last emperor. When he finally ascended to power, he dying emperor had concocted a plan which, in the boy's honesty, he enacted to the last detail. When all of the smaller countries and protectorships fell apart at the ascension of the new emperor, calling him an unsuited and unworthy ruler; when the very council under him revolted, split into pieces as scattered as the fall of autumn leaves, tearing itself and every part of the empire apart... At a moment of prescience, the boy abandoned his post, dressed in his village rags, took his family, and used the old emperor's landship, the only one of its kind, to flee the ruins of that empire. The only honest boy left in the kingdom, spared by his honesty.
[ Midnight shrugs. ]
It drove the poor boy mad, of course. He was honest, after all. "What does mere honesty do to separate me from my fellow man? It did nothing to save an entire empire from burning." Nothing his family could do could console him. He drove the landship into an ocean, beached it there... And he and his family lived there, safe from the world, but trapped. They never saw the sun again.
The weight of an empire's demise and all of the war resulting wore heavy on his shoulders. That boy and his seed saved three lives, but set nations on fire. All due to one old man's despair, his dying wish to accomplish one small, good thing in the face of insurmountable wickedness.
[ ... The end. Midnight ends it there, with the finality of someone who knows fairytales inevitably end this way. ]