A Time of Tigers - From Peasant to Emperor

"Then, if there was one thing… I have a friend, who recently lost someone very dear to him," Arthur said. "He's the sort of man that will bear the burden any way he knows how. But for how level-headed he does seem, it points to me to the true greatness of his suffering."

The General nodded. "This too, we have done. We look to bring back the dead with the chest. It is what makes us a man."

"No, sir, you misunderstand me," Arthur said. "I can not meddle in the realm of the Gods, even with my wishes. Nor would this man wish for me to meddle in that same realm on his behalf. In fact, I do not think he would ever forgive me. My wish would only be for him to see colour in the world once more, for his remaining years, before he is reunited with the one he loves. I do not think I could ask him to ever find love again, for he is a serious man, you understand. As serious as these desert rocks of yours, ever enduring the sun. But I would have him live again, and I would see him explore, and bring stories to her, when they do reunite again."

The General looked at him strangely. "This is it? You would risk your life for this thing? Who is this man to you? What is his name?"

"My closest friend is what he is," Arthur said. "You seem to think it a modest asking, but do understand, it is everything to me. His name is Dominus Patrick, and if the Gods are good, sir, you might be blessed with meeting him one day. And you might be blessed further in seeing past his ordinary demeanour – in seeing the man that does lie beneath."

"Dominus Patrick, I will remember this name," the General said. "And you too, King Pendragon. I ask you, may I once more shake your hand?"

"I was going to ask you the same, General," Arthur said, extending his hand.

"You, are young. But you are a wise King. If you live, one day, you will be the High King, no?"

"Our cycle of succession does make it the turn of we Pendragons, but nothing is certain in this life, General."

"A wise King, a good ruler," the General said. "Our Emperors, Gods protect them, divine they are, yes. But some still are burdened by the wants of mortal man. Is wisdom, you have. I will pray that you live, King Pendragon. I will pray that one day, you sit that throne of our long heard enemy. If you are to sit there, I believe, we will know peace between us. We will know glory. We will see these borders opened, and our two countries will flourish together."

"You paint a wonderful future, General," Arthur said. "I give you my thanks once more."

…

…

Arthur could tell, even as he ordered his armies into formation, that the General had spoken no mistruths. His evaluation of the Pandora Goblin was no meaningly put about thing, to scare other heroes away from the slaying of the creature, so that they might fail to grasp the gift of wishes that lay inside the box on its back.

It stood as tall as a three story building, and it padded around on all fours, but for its humanoid shape, one would think that, if it did not carry such a weighty chest on its back, wrapped to it in a number of gruesome chains, that it might have been able to stand upright, and it would have been taller still.

They set up their position a good distance away from it. They simply drank in its existence. As far as the histories knew, this was the most powerful creature in all of creation. Or at the very least, barring the Gods themselves. It was Pandora's anger that had seen such a creature placed there – and anger made Arthur doubt the quality of those wishes that she might have said she would pass. In truth, he did not think even if he was given the opportunity, he would ever risk wishing upon Pandora. Especially for the matter of his friend. He would not wish to bring the meddlesome hands of the Gods down upon, knowing very well that Pandora had sinister intentions. Only if he could be reassured of the possibility of an honestly upheld wish would he have done otherwise.

Ten thousand men was what King Arthur had been allowed to take with him. Men from all parts of the Stormfront. The High King had made it sound an honour, but Arthur was beginning to see the truth of it more strongly, that they were indeed all sent here to serve out their deaths. Dominus had said as much, when Arthur had paid him a visit, away from the world.

"Don't be a fool, Arthur, he wants you dead," Dominus had said.

"It is my duty regardless," Arthur said. "You have always had praise for my Sword. Do you not think that I can match the beast? I am of the Fifth Boundary now. The Goddess Claudia has seen me thusly Blessed. Is it not my duty, regardless of the orders of the High King, to put my life on the line, to see put to dust the historic enemies of humanity."

Dominus looked exasperated. He hated debating. He still might have argued more strongly if he had been in better health. But the man looked unwell. That he hadn't burned the kingdom down for what had been done to Persephone was a matter of the greatest will. Arthur's smile quickly faded, as he'd felt that panging in his heart looking at him, knowing very well that he could never match that level of resilience. Arthur knew the truth of it. He was no hero. A hero, and a knight, looked far more like the man in front of him. None knew self sacrifice like Dominus.