Sir Knight walked out, through the dark, twisting and turning corridors of the castle, to the shiny, straightforward openness of the battlements.
There, gazing the waving sea of crops and the moving fields of waves underneath, was the person he was looking for.
Without even turning itself, the voice of the person met him almost the minute he stepped out. The voice was, oddly, tight and loose, commanding and surrendering, hopeful and despaired. The words spoken were fighting the Knight's presence and conscience, before they disappeared escaping to the castle's dungeon.
"When this pursuing, this persistence, is going to end? I grow weary of it. You know this situation has no future. Even the past, on which it is based on, is past gone. I am the wrong person for you. And you know it, although you deny it. From every possible aspect. I am moody, while you are happy. I am short, while you are tall. I am vengeful, while you are forgiving. I am poor, while you are wealthy. I am volatile, while you are tempered. I am impatient, while you are meek. I am unfaithful, while you are loyal. I am radical, while you are benign. I am bound, while you are free. You are like the sun, while I am like the cloud, You are a rainbow, while I am grayness. You know all these and you still deny them. And no matter how much you deny them, I am the wrong person for you..."
Sir Knight placed both his hands on the battlements, gazing the mixed green and blue underneath him. "I know all these, he said softly to the voice, but, no matter what, you still make me happy".
The voice grew impatient once more and intercepted rudely: "Happy? Happy, you say? Happiness is overestimated. What is happiness? And what happiness are you talking about? We only have a bubble of happiness. If we have even that. A bubble! Elusive, unstable, breakable, short-lived like a bubble! Nothing more than a bubble. Made from dreams, intentions, lies, smoke, clouds and air. You can not be happy with that. You deserve more. More than me! More than a bubble."
Sir Knight smiled to the vastness above him. "For me it is enough. You make me happy." And he raised his hand gently to subdue a renewed string of objections. The voice had no choice but to remain silent, locked in the dungeon.
Sir Knight moved back to the castle. But, just before he re-immersed himself in the grayness of the inside, he added one last thing to the silent voice behind him: "You know, to make a rainbow, you need not only sun but, also, rain".
There, gazing the waving sea of crops and the moving fields of waves underneath, was the person he was looking for.
Without even turning itself, the voice of the person met him almost the minute he stepped out. The voice was, oddly, tight and loose, commanding and surrendering, hopeful and despaired. The words spoken were fighting the Knight's presence and conscience, before they disappeared escaping to the castle's dungeon.
"When this pursuing, this persistence, is going to end? I grow weary of it. You know this situation has no future. Even the past, on which it is based on, is past gone. I am the wrong person for you. And you know it, although you deny it. From every possible aspect. I am moody, while you are happy. I am short, while you are tall. I am vengeful, while you are forgiving. I am poor, while you are wealthy. I am volatile, while you are tempered. I am impatient, while you are meek. I am unfaithful, while you are loyal. I am radical, while you are benign. I am bound, while you are free. You are like the sun, while I am like the cloud, You are a rainbow, while I am grayness. You know all these and you still deny them. And no matter how much you deny them, I am the wrong person for you..."
Sir Knight placed both his hands on the battlements, gazing the mixed green and blue underneath him. "I know all these, he said softly to the voice, but, no matter what, you still make me happy".
The voice grew impatient once more and intercepted rudely: "Happy? Happy, you say? Happiness is overestimated. What is happiness? And what happiness are you talking about? We only have a bubble of happiness. If we have even that. A bubble! Elusive, unstable, breakable, short-lived like a bubble! Nothing more than a bubble. Made from dreams, intentions, lies, smoke, clouds and air. You can not be happy with that. You deserve more. More than me! More than a bubble."
Sir Knight smiled to the vastness above him. "For me it is enough. You make me happy." And he raised his hand gently to subdue a renewed string of objections. The voice had no choice but to remain silent, locked in the dungeon.
Sir Knight moved back to the castle. But, just before he re-immersed himself in the grayness of the inside, he added one last thing to the silent voice behind him: "You know, to make a rainbow, you need not only sun but, also, rain".
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