A man sits in a dark cell because he refused to fight for someone else's personal gain. The kingdom has remained at war, and the king needs a new commander.
I sit slumped against the cold wall. It's dark. I pull my knees closer and try and huddle just a little bit tighter as I realize I haven't seen the light of day in more then what I am told is six months. Hell, I haven't seen any light at all in more then... Well only God knows when... I think they've forgotten about me.
My shackles clink together and remind me of why I'm here. Fight for king and country. That's what we were told.
"For King and Country!" That's what we cried.
What a load of shit... The king doesn't give a dam about the rest of us and as far as he's concerned, he is the country, so what they really mean is; "Fight for the King and his personal gain!".
This thought is reoccurring. When you sit in the dark all day and all night, there's only so much time you can spend asleep. The time you spend awake is split into three parts; Eating what scraps they give you, shitting what scraps they give you and thinking. Wanna guess which one I've been doing?
I think about lots of things. People for one. I still remember the veins in my commanders' neck as he ordered me to lift my sword. I refused. He didn't like that.
The sound of a heavy door creaking open snatches away the memory. I don't get my hopes up as I hear footsteps echo off the stone.