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31_days2010-04-17 02:44 pm
seta-suzume.livejournal.com) wrote in 31_days2010-04-17 02:44 pm
[April 17] [Suikoden III] So Much for Eternity
Title: So Much for Eternity
Day/Theme: April 17, 2010 "This place was in its third death"
Series: Suikoden III
Character/Pairing: Sasarai
Rating: PG
Long ago, when I was young, even when I first learned that I might live a long, long life, like my father, I believed the Temple would outlast me. If by the Temple, I meant the actual, historical white-washed, stained glass decorated, circular building, I turned out to be completely wrong.
I looked young when the Temple burned by the enemy, but already I was old at heart. I had seen death and disease and famine and war. I had fought them all and mostly learned that it was not my fate to win, but to endure. Where the people could not outlast the trouble besetting them, I would remain long after as their symbol. I was never one of the people, really, but a man of the people- that was my political identity. I took to heart the words of prophets past. "These will be my people," I vowed, as strongly as my father had.
When the Temple was burned, it didn't crumble into nothing. It was blackened. The library suffered. It was a shame. But even if it was a death, it was not a defeat. The Temple was rebuilt, more beautiful than ever. I continued to live there. I continued, through work and prayer and war, to serve my people and my father and my god.
I still looked when the Temple broke, shattered asunder by the rush of an earthquake I could not halt. I had been old at heart before, but at the time of this second funeral, my ages had caught up. I was as old as I was expected to feel, even if I didn't look that way. There had been a fear going around that I had lost control of my powers, but it was only a rumor. My second soul would never desert me. Not even when my father deserted me. ...But at the time I'm describing, that moment was yet to come. After the earthquake, the Temple was rebuilt. It was plainer than before, not quite so fine, but still it stood again. And I continued to live there and to serve my people.
The third death was the one the Temple could not resist. In the face of the enemy, in the face of the forces of nature, the Temple could rise again, but when its own people- my people- turned against it, there would be no resurrection. No life after death. The Temple was not rebuilt. The people were no longer my people. I had nothing. I was alone. I stared at the place the Temple had stood and wondered if, in the end, my service had any merit at all.
Day/Theme: April 17, 2010 "This place was in its third death"
Series: Suikoden III
Character/Pairing: Sasarai
Rating: PG
Long ago, when I was young, even when I first learned that I might live a long, long life, like my father, I believed the Temple would outlast me. If by the Temple, I meant the actual, historical white-washed, stained glass decorated, circular building, I turned out to be completely wrong.
I looked young when the Temple burned by the enemy, but already I was old at heart. I had seen death and disease and famine and war. I had fought them all and mostly learned that it was not my fate to win, but to endure. Where the people could not outlast the trouble besetting them, I would remain long after as their symbol. I was never one of the people, really, but a man of the people- that was my political identity. I took to heart the words of prophets past. "These will be my people," I vowed, as strongly as my father had.
When the Temple was burned, it didn't crumble into nothing. It was blackened. The library suffered. It was a shame. But even if it was a death, it was not a defeat. The Temple was rebuilt, more beautiful than ever. I continued to live there. I continued, through work and prayer and war, to serve my people and my father and my god.
I still looked when the Temple broke, shattered asunder by the rush of an earthquake I could not halt. I had been old at heart before, but at the time of this second funeral, my ages had caught up. I was as old as I was expected to feel, even if I didn't look that way. There had been a fear going around that I had lost control of my powers, but it was only a rumor. My second soul would never desert me. Not even when my father deserted me. ...But at the time I'm describing, that moment was yet to come. After the earthquake, the Temple was rebuilt. It was plainer than before, not quite so fine, but still it stood again. And I continued to live there and to serve my people.
The third death was the one the Temple could not resist. In the face of the enemy, in the face of the forces of nature, the Temple could rise again, but when its own people- my people- turned against it, there would be no resurrection. No life after death. The Temple was not rebuilt. The people were no longer my people. I had nothing. I was alone. I stared at the place the Temple had stood and wondered if, in the end, my service had any merit at all.