Tome of Lost Tales

Echoes

"How do ya fare, lad?"

The question comes with a pretense.

"I am well, Adalmsis."

The reply comes with honesty.

"Here are ye 'winnings'."

Tyner hears this phrase so often.

It isn't something he longs to hear, per se.

Merely a consequence of his new beginning.

"Thank you, sir."

The gratitude comes with a tepid force.

For how could Tyner not be grateful?

Adalmsis had simply acted on recourse.

"Hey, maybe you'll win the next one!"

The lie comes with a wink.

The words linger in Tyner's mind.

Into a deep abyss he would often sink.

Tyner is left alone.

This feeling isn't new.

It is a consistent repetition,

But still it leaves Tyner feeling empty in lieu.

When will he make his ancestors proud?

Is this why he had lived to this point?

Where had the honor of his mother's legacy gone?

Was it to fight for a paltry coin in a sordid crowd?

"I am the son of a warrior."

"I am bound to honor those who walked before."

"Next time, surely, I will win."

And so Tyner echoes the lie.

And so Tyner echoes the lie.