They told me not to go…but it was my son.
Sick now. I stayed a hologram much too long. Everything seems fuzzy, blue, almost smoky, my ears full of a loud buzzing noise. They call it Link Sickness. I have never felt it this bad before. My eyes strain, almost plead to recognize something of home.
Under the buzzing I hear a voice. Then louder.
“King? Can you hear me? Sire? It was my trusted counsel Stanis Carwyn.
“Yes, yes Stanis, I can hear you. Stanis…my son is dead just as the oracle predicted.”
“We will mourn our loss for all of time my sire. I am sorry.” Carwyn bows his head.
” No time to be sorry now Stanis, we must make the necessary preparations. We have little time.”
“Preparations, Sire?” Carwyn stands confused by the King’s urgency.
“Yes…preparations for war.”
by Meyer Lane