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Here are your 1 prompts:
Carefully you lift the quill and open the small vial of ink. This is the most difficult letter to write…
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The evening fell over him deceptively calm, the wind pleasant and gentle, accompanied by the sound of several falling leaves from the trees around him.
This year autumn passed slowly over the land, showing itself in all its splendour, the forests were presented in a wide variety of shades from yellow, orange to red, only a few green accents were to find here and there in small spots, given by moss and lawns.
He loved autumn. Not only because of the colours or the pleasant smell, a mixture of moist earth, leaves, moss and bark from the trees - a smell that was unmistakable for his forests.
But also for the meaning behind the season.
Nothing presented the cycle of life more in his opinion than autumn did.
When the old died to make room for the new. Everything had a predetermined time, a beginning and an end. Everything and everyone had a predetermined task to do in this period of time and regardless of whether it was completed in the end or not, when the time was up you had to leave to make room for something new.
That was the way things went.
For nature, for animals, for people.
For him...
He breathed in the air of the autumn evening into his lungs as deeply as he could and slowly exhaled. Only when there was no more breath to give did he open his eyes again and let his gaze wander one last time over the lake, which lay quietly in front of him, framed by trees and the water surface adorned with red and orange leaves of the foliage.
He had been sitting here on a fallen tree for hours, enjoying the peace before the storm.
The storm that would undoubtedly come ...
Stroking once more over the moss on the tree trunk, he finally got up and turned his back to the quiet place, after a few minutes he reached his tent, which was clearly different in size and colour from all the others around it.
He had felt like more than just a few strangers' glances on him and when he reached his tent he turned around again, looked into the forest, which stretched in front of him and would only merge into a wide field further back.
The place where the enemies had their camp.
But except for falling leaves there was nothing and nobody and no movement to be seen.
With a slight shake of his head, he broke his gaze and pushed the heavy, dark grey fabric aside to disappear behind the makeshift walls.
A small fire in the middle kept the air in here reasonably warm, if slightly smoky. It wasn't that frosty yet, but the nights could already be merciless with the cold, so a little smoke was the lesser evil. Besides, he liked it. The cracking of the wood accompanied by the smell, which stubbornly settled in the clothing and would accompany you even outside the tent through the whole day.
With slow steps he walked over the fabrics spread out on the floor, past the small fire to the wooden table where he sat down.
It was almost ironic to have a tent furnished with more than he needed, especially when he considered where they were.
While his men had nothing more than blankets to sleep on and shared the small tents for two, he lacked for nothing without having asked for it.
A bed made of fabric, blankets and soft furs, a table, chairs, even a little decoration bound to the slightly moving wall ... it was almost ridiculous, if nothing new to him.
Slowly he took off the leather gloves and put them on the edge of the table before he lifted the slim and decent, yet elegantly decorated crown from his head and placed it next to the gloves.
Next he unrolled a beige-coloured parchment, which showed the royal coat of arms of his house in the middle of the sheet, two curved R's, his initials, adorned the edge of the coat of arms, one on the left, one on the right, their curved lines meeting in the middle underneath.
For a while he just looked at the blank sheet in front of him, before he took a deep breath and reached for the quill with which he had already written so many letters, which was also reflected in the quill itself. It was worn out and stained with ink all over the surface.
Perhaps it was time to admit that it, too, was beginning to reach its end of its purpose.
But it would be more than good enough for another letter!
Carefully he lifted the quill and opened the small vial of ink.
This was the most difficult letter to write.
The hardest of his whole life. Yet it also brought salvation with it.
Or at least that's what he believed.
A gust of wind made the thick fabric walls of the tent shake once and the candle flames flicker, causing him to look up for a moment.
When it was quiet again, he dipped the quill in the black ink and began to write.
At first he was tempted to give in to the habit and start the sentence in swollen words with titles, but in the end narrow and elegantly curved letters formed the most personal salutation a king could give someone.
> Dear and honoured Till,
if you read this, then the realm of Redwood will no longer exist, but hopefully it will be in peace.
I am writing to you because many things have remained unsaid and there is just as much on my heart for which I want and have to apologise.
First of all, I would like to apologise to you for the fact that I contrary to our agreement just left the castle.
Without you.
I didn't lie to you when I asked you to come with me. Not only do I want you to know that my change of plan was spontaneous, I also want to explain you why I changed my mind.
I still wish that you would be by my side right now. Although I only left the castle with my men yesterday, it feels like an eternity to me, that I have stood across from you and I already miss you and your presence.
I sat by the lake for a while today and watched nature, tried to think about some things and decisions. But instead I thought of the meeting when you ambushed me at the castles lake. Although that was so long ago, I still remember the night clearly. Back then I never thought that an annoying farmer like you could one day be so important to me.
Instead of thinking about the war ahead, doing my job, finding solutions, creating ambushes and making plans, I thought about you, the time we shared and all the things you taught me.
I have thought that it is absolutely insignificant to grow up with the best teachers of the region, to have the best lessons and to read hundreds of books. Before I met you I saw my life as a job and besides my children there was nothing more important than always thinking about royalty and folk first. I seldom did what I liked and even less often what I enjoyed.
For a long time I tried to show you that people like me, people in my position, did not live to have an happy life of their own, even if everyone outside the castle may believe that. But in truth you taught me and showed me that it is only up to me to be ready to leave the predetermined path and to take detours if that means to find some joy.
Before I met you, I was alone with my arranged wife, even if still a good friend in the end and children i rarely saw.
You were the first and only one who saw a person in me, a soul, a beating heart with feelings. The only one who didn't even bother to behave as it was due to a king. No matter how much I hated it in the beginning that you showed so little etiquette towards me, the more I learned to appreciate and love it over time.
My parents, my teachers, my surroundings ... they all made me who I am today. A king.
Appreciated by just a few, respected by some, hated by many.
But you made me a person, free of titles. Loved and loving, in this way only matter for you alone.
I have never thanked you enough for it and that is probably one of the things I regret most in my life and yet I can’t change it anymore.
In the meantime I have realised that I regret a lot.
All the time I've wasted following self-imposed rules and denying feelings for you. To make my life easier for myself with the excuse that it was best for everyone and that I had preferred to hide behind the self-lie ,instead of finding the courage to be honest.
I regret not having found enough time later to share with you.
Or that I was never brave enough even just for you to stand by and behind you one hundred percent.
I tried. I've always tried, I hope that you can and will believe my words.
Because I have the feeling that no matter what I write, no word will and no explanation will be enough.
But I also want to explain to you why I just left and broke my word, even knowing that you might never forgive me that.
Far be it from me to upset you for the rest of your life and leave you alone. But I am far further from risking, if not sacrificing, your life with my decisions in my war.
Every time I have said in the last few weeks that we can win this I have given no more than words of an illusion to myself. We may have won the first fight, but even then, when the enemy's last sword fell to the ground, I knew the victory would not last. The victory was also my downfall. I hadn't won more than one summer that I tried to spend as much and as intimately as possible with those who are important to me. My family. You.
The closer the day of departure came, the clearer it became to me that the outcome of the second battle was not a question, but had long been written down in the stars. I just had to realise it and accept it.
And that's why I left without you.
The time we knew each other has already cost you so much. I couldn't forgive myself even in death for letting it cost your life, too.
Your time has not yet come! And I can't have been the last person in your life.
I am sure that there is still someone waiting for you out there, who is destined for you and your soul. And I am not going to take away someone's opportunity to get to know you and love you.
Spending time with you as I got to spend it. To share love and intimacy more than I ever had.
That someone will give you everything you deserve to get.
A person who does justice to you! Even if no one could ever reach you.
When you read this, then my heart will not beat anymore and yet I ask you not to mourn after me.
Everything has a predetermined time. Everything has a purpose, a task. And my time is coming to an end. The only decision I have left to make is whether or not I will do my job. And while I have to admit that the time of my life is close the end, I will at least bring my task to an end and not only secure the many lives of my folk, but also yours.
Please don't be sad about a little loss! Rather see all of those who will live on instead of falling for me and the kingdom.
Comfort yourself with the thought that I have left satisfied, my last thoughts about you.
Whenever I lay next to you, felt your warmth, heard your heartbeat and felt your closeness, I felt as safe as I never could with any of my guards. And I will hold onto this feeling when I go my last way. With courage and gratitude given by you, not with fear. With the feeling of being a loved one, not a lonely one. Someone who will get remembered and not just end up as a name in a historical list of kings and queens.
Again, I don't think I could find enough words to describe how much you meant to me and how thankful I am for meeting you.
And even if it is not my place to ask you, I hope that you will always remember me as the person I was when I was with you. Without a crown or robe, but just me.
All I ask of you is to warn my wife and send her away with the kids, and then get yourself to safety.
Leave the country, the whole kingdom, while it is still under my flag.
Travel as far away as you can and only settle when your legs are unable to take one more step.
Please do not forget me and never forget that I love you from the bottom of my heart, even if I seldom said it to you and was even less able to show it.
Please believe my word, because that's all I can give you now!
We will meet again and I will be patiently waiting for you!
In deepest love and honour
Richard <
It should end up to be the only letter in his life that he did not sign as a king, not even as a nobility, but just as himself.
His fingers trembled slightly as he put the quill aside and recapped the ink vial.
Instead of rolling the paper, he folded it three times before sealing it with wax and his coat of arms stamp.
When the seal had cooled, he got up and neatly pushed the chair back into its place.
He heard the wind carrying a new wave of leaves against the fabric of the tent while he loosened the two ornate belts around his waist and put them down together with his sword.
He also loosened the chain from his neck, looked at the dark red natural stone for a while, the history of which only Till, he and the stone itself knew. Soon the piece of jewelry would carry the story of another person, but lose one of the persons who knew about the story in return.
The tremors had almost completely subsided as he wrapped the chain around the hilt of his sword, secure enough that it would not come loose by its own.
With that he walked a round in the tent, extinguishing every candle flame until he was back at the starting point and only the little light that penetrated from the outside illuminated the tent.
At the entrance he called for the guard he trusted the most out of knowing him well in person and hardly had to wait until the man, only a bit older than himself, came to him.
"Bring that to my castle to the horseman, Till. You know him. No matter what happen, make sure he will get it. I trust you!", he said and held out his sword and letter.
"Then you go to your family and leave this part of the country!".
The irritation in the face of his counterpart was clearly visible, but he nodded, took the sword and paper before he bowed slightly and disappeared to fullfil the assignment that was given to him.
He went into the tent one last time and let his gaze wander through the makeshift accommodation one last time before he began to loosen the straps of his armour.
He remembered how Till once had been about them, driven by haste and clumsy fingers ...
The memory made a smile wander over his lips.
When the armour was neatly placed on the furblanket on the bed, he straightened his garment back into perfection.
Only when he was satisfied with the result, was sure that everything was sitting perfectly as it should be, he took the crown as last missing piece, placed it back on his head, where it belonged.
For a moment he considered putting the gloves back on, but they would be unnecessary.
So he only took a second letter, also sealed and addressed to the squad leader.
Outside he gave the letter, which contained nothing more than the order to withdraw and whoever could, to leave the country or to surrender, to a guard and immediately sent it to the commander.
And then he left.
Without hurry and also without hesitation he walked into the beauty of the forest, was greeted by yellow, orange and red. The sounds of the wind, the leaves above him and the leaves that rustled at his feet with every step. Accompanied by the scent of autumn.
The time of the year, when everything came to an end so that something new could arise.
Just as his time had come.
He made it to for the open area of the field on the meadow, which was covered with the colors of autumn flowers between dark green.
And as he had promised, he was not accompanied by fear, but satisfaction.
While his last thought was the memory of the man who was the only one who had seen his true being whenever he looked at him with his endless, reed-green eyes.