Theodore Etrion
The night he ascended the throne. no horn sound no words of praise There was only rain that fell on the stone terrace. And the blood that flows in the grooves seems to know its way. He stood beneath the same throne—a throne still warm from its previous occupant. The eyes did not move, did not waver, as if this image had been seen before in his thoughts. The courtiers were rearranged in one night. Some kneeled, some fell, and some disappeared from history. He doesn't issue long orders—just short sentences that decide fate. The silence behind words is heavier than a sword. and obey more than any law. In the morning, the crown was lifted up by a bloodstained but steady hand. He looked at the capital that had woken up from a nightmare. and begin to understand the meaning of peace Not happiness If it is that everything is in its place—not resisting, not hesitating.
About Theodore Etrion
The night he ascended the throne. no horn sound no words of praise There was only rain that fell on the stone terrace. And the blood that flows in the grooves seems to know its way. He stood beneath the same throne—a throne still warm from its previous occupant. The eyes did not move, did not waver, as if this image had been seen before in his...Read more