My grandfather used to tell me stories of all these fantasy characters that inspired him to be the man I looked up to my whole life.
Larger than life beings that if he even became half the man they were, he’d be a man anyone could be proud of.
Men like Robin Hood who gave to the poor and risked his own freedom to do so.
My grandfather gave to anyone he could even if it meant he suffered.
Men like Jack who climbed a giant’s beanstalk to face the monster at the top.
My grandfather had the kind of courage you need to be able to face anything.
Of course, he looked up to you King Arthur. You have so many stories that all centered around a man being the best he could be despite all the evil around him.
If you could be a good man despite all the pain around you, he could be a good man against all of life’s obstacles.
If you could take the responsibility of a king as a child, he could take the responsibility he needed to as a man.
He liked Robin Hood, he appreciated Jack but you were a step above all the rest. You were his hero, you inspired him to be everything he was to me.
When I heard not only were you real but you still existed in a capacity where I could meet you, I was more excited than I expected.
I was going to meet my hero’s hero.
In you, I could still see him.
I was filled with so much anticipatory joy, I could barely contain it.
Then I met you and it was the first and only time I was glad he wasn’t still around.
I expected a hero, all I got was a cunt.
All that evil I heard you avoided, all the reasons I heard you were the best of man, all the reasons excelsior chose you, all of it was either lies or stories of a good man who disappeared long ago.
You chose to live in more than the books my grandfather grew up.
You chose physical immortality instead of just being eternal in a literary way.
It came at a price though, didn’t it?
You had to give up everything that made you the legendary figure of my youth.
You gave up your heart to simply be a vessel of bones and pride.
You gave up your morality to keep a crown.
To continue holding that sword, you gave up all the reasons it chose you in the first place.
To keep the legacy of you, I must destroy the reality.
To keep the myth alive, I have to kill what it became.
Losing the idea of you was like losing him all over again.
I’m not letting that happen, I’m not going to kill you, I’m going to show you what you can still be.
I’m going to inspire you like you inspired him.
I’ll show you the goodness of a man whose heart is so big it killed him.
Hopefully, you can still learn.