What torments lie within the heart of a hero? The haunts and timeline flaws that shouldn't have been, yet are. The decisions that had to be made, but the folly of having to make those decisions reveals only heartache and loss. The wisdom of peace and being still, they are there, but the hero can't. The hero must move.
Holding the power, the forces of nature that emanate from within the hero, they are not so much a gift, often, but rather a burden, like the yoke around an oxen's strong and able neck. The hero only longs for a simple life with the love of his life there next to him; perhaps a maiden who tends to the garden or a fiery rebel who dances through the village only to make him smile. The hero wishes that the one who looms around looking for trouble would attend the local saloon instead and have a drink with friends, not challenge the helpless in the public square.
The hero knows that his life will never be 'normal'. The hero has come to accept that loneliness and solitude are a part of his existence and that the implications of his life will, indeed, spill out onto all those who are close to him. The notion that the one whom he could love, if existence allowed, would be in perpetual danger and in a constant state of unrest. The peace that he craves would not be peace at all. So the hero accepts his fate in this timeline. The hero embraces the lonely shadow that follows him around as his true companion and the only one who won't leave him, even though hidden at times.
Who will love the hero? The one whom he saves? The one whom is there one moment when there's trouble, then gone the next when all is well, or the one who thinks he is mysterious and full of fascinations, but quickly realizes that he will never belong to them- he can only belong to duty and obligation? No. They are not the ones who will love the hero. The ancients love the hero and the ancestors love the hero, but when they speak to him, he seems as though he is crazy to anyone who observes him. The hero hears the Voices of Wisdom and listens to the Gods on the Wind, but only when no one is looking. The hero has to keep his secrets for his own sake as well as for the sake of those whom he must rescue. Otherwise, all is in vain.
Who will perish? Not the hero. Who will smile? Not the hero. Who will hold love? Not the hero. But the hero is still there the same, waiting to assist, holding until the time comes when he is needed, if only for a moment. The hero is and always will be the hero, because his destiny is intertwined with fate and is held together with the commands of the One who hung the stars. The hero is infinite...
