Thursday, January 21, 2016

knight yellow

He thought himself weak for he could not understand. He had only his own perspective. You should forgive him.

Someone ought to do so; he never forgave himself.

Knight Yellow knew only the actions of others; he saw nothing of their motivation and had no skill for hazarding others' emotions.

Each of his dozen peers were brazen, bold, and quick to speech. Knight Yellow stammered (when he was not altogether silent).

Instead, he watched. He weighed all things in the firm scales of his cautious mind.

However, human touch burned him like fire. Long speech choked him as ash.

Still, Knight Yellow, performed the necessary tasks.

He stood before terrifying throngs at every tournament. Eyes cut deeper than tourney swords. So many voices, a volley of sonic stones. Still, he endured.

He fought at every feast, through the forced intimacy of squiredom, and in all other things outside of his own quiet chambers. The Knight Yellow warred with fear in constancy, and won.

But all he knew was his friends were far more terrifying than war, an embrace might drive him to tears.

When the war found the rainbow kingdom, Knight Yellow, to the surprise of all, was the first to charge and the last to surrender. 

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