Never again will I swear by my life over trifles. Life is not a bargaining chip for pretty phrases. And honor... honor can truly only be lost by yourself. No one can take it away by force, deceit, or cunning. It can only be given. Voluntarily and consciously.
Powerful words from the strongest man in the kingdom. However, physical strength is only a small part of his might. The real power lies in how he lives every day, how he makes decisions, how he speaks the truth, even when it's inconvenient. A rock, not a man, and this rock is capable of desperate tenderness.
Clutching the note, he smiled—bitterly, but brightly. Rising, he entered the warm waters. It was absurd—outside, the wind chilled the bones, but here, it was as if a summer day had been hidden in the depths of the current. The water embraced him softly, as if alive, washing away not only fatigue but also heavy thoughts.
Life and honor are synonyms , I thought, delving deeper. What does this mean? Perhaps honor is the will to be yourself, even when the whole world is against you?
Simple soap lathers, smells of herbs and something elusively pure. Soap bubbles form iridescent spheres that last for seconds and vanish without a trace. So many learned minds have tried to understand the nature of beauty, and yet here it is—in a soap bubble. Perhaps this is the essence of beauty—its fleetingness?
I dove headfirst, letting the river wash away my last doubts, and emerged laughing. There was something liberating in that laughter—the understanding that life isn't just duty and struggle, but also moments like these: warm water, a cold wind, the scent of herbs. Simple, but real.
In a complex world, simple joys are like little islands of sanity. Water washes away not only dirt, but also fatigue and the worries of the previous day. A feeling of freshness, almost renewal.
As I climbed ashore, I glanced at the castle in the distance. The day had been full of discoveries: the morning training, Lejont's wise words, the precious gift. And ahead lay the unknown. For the first time in a long time, it didn't frighten me.
Remember , I whispered to myself the words of the mentor, true value is not in the price, but in how you use it .
Going back is always faster—or seems faster. Maybe because the road is familiar, or maybe because your thoughts are already where you're headed. Or maybe time is relative, like everything in this world.
The castle appeared on the horizon, majestic and slightly melancholy under the gray sky. Home. Maybe not a home, but still a home. And a home isn't just walls and a roof. It's the people who make it a home.