The king smiled at the young boy, although his body was bathing in red liquid that exterminated his chance of life. How could he be so happy, when his breathing had slowed down so excessively his chest heaved up and down every ten seconds, the young boy thought with tears streaming down his face. The king grabbed his hand, and folded them together. Like the king was not going to let go of him, ever.
"Do not leave me, dear brother," the boy had whispered into the kings pale and shallow gloved hand. The king smiled at his brother, and pushed his long silky hair back from his face.
"Brother, dear brother. Please sit close to me, I need to tell you something." The king whispered, and the small child neared him and bent over his ever so dead body.
"Please brother, tell me everything," the child sobbed out, clutching onto the lion's hand harder than ever before
The king smiled again, but more wide. "Trăiesc o viață plină de iubire, nu fugi de frică, provocare ea. Am fost distrus de rău, frate. Moartea mă va apuca de mână și mă conduce, la revedere," is what he whispered to the fateful child where he wept. The child did no understanding, but the king pushed him away slightly, and told him to run. Therefore, the miserable king fell limp onto his black silk bed, with the snow falling down lightly upon his hair from the window, looking like the angel he was.
YOU ARE READING
The King's Weep I
FantasyFor when the kingdom had known they lost their king to evil, and the snow fell as silently as ever, not phased. 'N-am putut alerga sau mers pe jos, el a luat de mână și ma iubit,' is what he whispered to the fateful child where he wept. The ch...
