“Claim your victory, old man. You have finally defeated me”
Dumbfounded, the old man rose and followed the young king. For the first time in years, the old man breathed fresh air. As they walked in the night, the old man was able to fully appreciate the beauty of the moon he once adored from behind bars. In silence, they walked.
“Prepare him” the young king instructed. The old man was cleaned. Dressed in the finest robes, then lead to the court where the young king received him. Placing the crown back on his head, the old man assumed the throne once again.
“I swore that one day I would defeat you and become the ruler you never were. After every battle I won, I would tell you of my victory not to entertain you but to flaunt my victory; to see your tears of shame. Your silence spoke of your envy”.
“Victory became a raging fire fueled by my very being. The flames rose, embers burned bright then the ashes blew away. In the end, the person I once was ceased to exist”.
“By defeating you, I became something I never wanted to be. The person I once was, lost. I am now empty”.
The old king stood in silence as tears of shame ran down his face. He spoke, “Now that you are empty, my son, receive your father…”