Hysterical letters to my sanity

stories of Evander

his mother would whisper in his ear be brave
he would straighten his spine like an iron snake had coiled its thick body around it. His fathers eyes were the colour of obsidian, jet rocks that made him shiver. When that cold hand met his skin he felt the pulsating response of fear, he thought then to his mother, who's eyes of amber begged with him to be strong. To not fear death, that was something his father had repeated so many times it drilled deep letters into his skull.
Be brave, do not fear death son
Pick up your sword and fight for your glory
Pick up your face and be the man you're expected to be. There have been myths written by the fates that await your victories, be fucking brave.
A vicious battle is coming, take your mothers advice, heed your fathers command.
For this crown, for this kingdom, throw all your misfortune and narcissism aside, you no longer burden only yourself but all the souls of others. You fight for your kingdom, you fight for your honour.
Be brave.
Only your misgiving of fright is to fear.