The Quiet Lake Town Has Always Been A Favorite Places To Visit. It Wasn't As Densely Populated As The

There are a few walks longer than the one of going to make the grave of a friend. I'm on my way to make the grave of about five thousand friends. My men were sent to scout an area and were ambushed. No one survived. As I am their king and friend, I felt every death.

Right now, the least I could do for those men and their families is at least pay tribute to them. I knew each of them like I knew my own brother. There were no better men in the kingdom than those who just lost their lives.

The Mourning Mountain isn't too far but every step feels further away from it. I want to go back to the throne room and hear that they're coming back, safe and sound. Not that some of the bodies couldn't be recovered or identified. I don't want to hear that some families wouldn't be able to bury their loved one.

At least my brother and his men are okay. They'll be back before the week is over.

Sunlight rained through the grove. It was a long day and, to be honest, I wanted a nap. There was a stone that was large, flat, and grey, that wasn't too far from me but it was in direct sunlight. Just to test the heat of the rock, I lightly rested my hand against it and instantly recoiled it back. It was way too hot to even consider.

Abandoning the hot rock, I searched for another good place to rest. After a moment, I found one that was completely shaded by a large oak tree and was covered in moss. There was no doubt in my mind that this was the better option.

My messenger bag served as my pillow and my cape as my blanket. It didn't take a long time for me to fall asleep on this rock.

The ocean hissed and fizzed as it was slowly approaching high tide. It was freezing out but I just needed time to think.

Out further by the ocean, I could see some aquatic fae sunbathing. Their clothes very closely resembled how the beach and ocean looked at all times. The girls were in dresses while the boys were in suits.

This is one of the times I wish that I could be as carefree as they seem.

I'm not shirking on my duties, I just get tired of what inevitably comes during the night.

Speaking of the night, it was approaching and I had to go leave.

Every 21st century piece of writing advice: Make us CARE about the character from page 1! Make us empathize with them! Make them interesting and different but still relatable and likable!

Every piece of classic literature: Hi. It's me. The bland everyman whose only purpose is to tell you this story. I have no actual personality. Here's the story of the time I encountered the worst people I ever met in my life. But first, ten pages of description about the place in which I met them.

"Tobias," I sighed.

"Yes, my king?"

"How long do you think we can honestly hold out for him to come home?"

"We're beyond that point, my king. The plant and animal mages are doing what they can to help."

I nodded. I'm tired and I know I can't rule without my brother to help me.

“How many people have died to achieve this world domination of yours?” “769.” “…What?” “769 people died to achieve my plans. I counted them, and had each of their names etched on my throne so I never forget what my victory cost the world. Now tell me, how many have you killed to see me dead?”

i dream of living within walking distance of a secondhand bookstore, a quiet café, and a river to sit at with my book and my coffee