Wemmbu war propaganda
The caves aren't the only places to crowded. Capital City seems overrun at times. Full of refugees from all the other city's bombed and fallen throughout the war. Although, it seems too quite aswell. Like there is a community understanding that something is very, very, wrong. And that they are helpless to prevent it. This time, posters litter the sides of buildings, begging people to share anything they can, anything they can provide to stop the efforts to saving people become futile. Either food, resources, or information, were now valued most. People converse in a restaurant, everything too cheap to feel comfortable. Of course in front of posters yet again, a constant reminder of the state their city was in.
A teen speaks softly as not to be overheard.
"Apparently he use to be kind, you know. Before everything went wrong."
The other laughs bitterly
"hard to believe that. Forgive me for struggling to picture a weapon of mass destruction as mercy full-"
A voice interrupts, older, tired, labored by the weight of the desions resting on his shoulder, the king himself, who some see as hope, others as failure
"he's not a weapon you know? Your friend is right, he's still a human."
The second seen sighs slightly
"I know he's human, it's just hard to picture him as kind"
The tired king smiles softly,
"that's fair, if you only know him from this war,"
He pulls up a seat next to the teens,
"he did use to be kind though, of course, not to all, he use to go to Highwater to fish, he use to simply be. . . And explorer, sometimes a guard, but non the less, it was on the base of, fondness, for the sever, for his friends. Everything he did was out of love."
The first teen frowned softly,
"If he was so full of love and fondness, why does he turn his backs on those morals now, why does he choose violence and hatred?"
The old king sighs, seeming much older then his actual age.
"that's where, I think you're wrong. I think behind that hatred, is love, that hatred is a mask, for the pain of losing such love, and to hide his guilt. Of the violence, the atrocious acts, that's he's performed, for love."
The two teens exchanged a glance, both confused. One speaking before the other.
"Well what, did someone kill his girlfriend or something?"
The other agrees softly with a questioning nod, and the king once again smiles before responding
"not all love is one of romance, and no, not dead, captured yet again, a very close friend of him. That friend has been a backbone, a stability for ages, and he is dependant on that friends at time. That means, that he is used, for that friends freedom. Although, I doubt Egg is actually free. But as I said, love has us do reckless things, Wemmbu has burned the world for Egg before, I don't doubt he will again."
A bell singles incoming refugees, guards gathers by the door starting to exit to gather supplies and resources in order to assist the newcomers. The king sighs softly before silently excusing himself from the table. After all their is still a war, so he still has duties to attend to.
With that the king leaves the teens with that thought, unintentionally having the two think themselves, how far would they go for each other, or for anyone dear to them.
