I was better than this, once. Proud, strong, and whole. I was part of a great ensemble of others like myself: we gleamed in the streaming sunlight as battles raged, reflecting anything that came our way.
Until the day it happened. Cracked, broken, I gave way beneath the impact of an oncoming arrow. I would never quit, though, and so I stayed.
Then, she took me. Tore me away from my comrades, away from service. I was kept with her at all times. I never knew what became of the man I had for so long served with, but I could guess.
There we stood, on the bridge. The very same bridge, that place where I had been forever removed from my former employment. We stood for some time, me glinting in the light even with my damaged frame, and her. Just...loitering there. As if in waiting for some grand occasion which never came to pass.
Weightlessness as I was tossed on the currents of the air - what was happening? What had she done?
A splash as I sank into the river's depths, then a deep rushing sound. Rumbles in the deep.
Buried, forgotten I lay, beneath heaps of rubble and stinking trash, left behind by man. Nothing more than a broken relic, shut away from the world.
Then, this rubbish heap, this world of abandoned filth and ever-flowing waters, shifted. The layers were being pulled back, searched for some knick-knack or other.
Soon I felt myself being pulled from my bed of garbage, lifted by a gentle hand. But the joy I experienced was not to endure for long.
"What junk," the one who had hold of me cried as he beheld me. "Useless trash..." I was cast away again, left to drift once more on the currents from which I had only just been plucked.
Treasured protector, to melancholy keepsake, to useless trash afloat on the rumbling waters of the world. And on and on, for such is the nature of the existence of a single scale.