Lancelot
I have travelled far and wide, fought battles, seen a vast display of castles, cities, and caves. I have seen a variety of islands, yet somehow my mind returns to this one always. it is meagre compared to the ones I explore, but shrouded in rumours, secrets and lies. Old wives tell many a tale of what may lie in the tower. Some say a vicious demon resides there, others tell tales of a benevolent fairy. My mother spun her own web of lies about a beautiful lady, banished from the human realm, forced to exist within four grey walls, glimpsing the world outside in shadows. I gave a dry humourless laugh. I do not pity this lady. For I have seen the bad in the world. I have seen the brutality of humanity, far too many times to imagine that the fabled Lady of Shalott was anything but blessed. I would have once seen her as cursed, when I was young, hot-blooded and reckless. When I dreamed of being a noble knight, venturing to all corners of the globe, protecting Camelot, my home. I dreamt of being a hero. Now I realise, I am but a weapon, pointed towards a faceless enemy, with no choice but to fight. Shaking my head at my ridiculous fancies, I rode on, a song on my lips, dreaming of the day I would no longer go to war. As I reach Camelot, however, true music fills the air. I turn to see a boat, wandering aimlessly through the river. From it is emanating a truly beautiful, filling me with an indescribable sensation. I wandered to the river, wanting to see what was in the boat; wat was responsible for making me feel the way I did. There was an unbelievable spectacle surrounding it by the time I arrived, thoughts mingled with fear and wonderment. Pushing through, desperate to see, I stopped short. It was her. It must be. The loveliest sight I have ever beheld. Just barely alive, but accepting of her fate, almost ready to let go. Waiting. I knelt beside her, and bid farewell to the Lady of Shalott.
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The Lady of Shalott
Randomi wrote this and now I'm subjecting you to it. it is neither good nor is it worth actually reading. based of the poem by Alfred Tennyson. go read that instead; it's amazing.