AThousandSnakebites

I watched as you grew And your youth became pride Once a child, now a king The man locked up inside Your passionate nature The haste in your heart The pitfalls of kinghood When boys play the part Your power was mighty (If put to ill use) Your hand tightened firmly The king's words a noose to any who'd question The will of your mind You turned to see me Defiant but kind My loyalty never Would stand in my way Until you put that Before His holy name I wanted to reason I hoped you would see The humble and loving Subject I could be But pride was damnation If not for a king, Then for this poor man Who had fought for the

Budapest, Hungary – July 1914 The air stank of gunpowder and sewer water and hot, unwashed bodies. Beneath his hood, Vaine crinkled his nose in disgust. While he knew the mortals did not have senses as strong as his, the stench was so overwhelming that he couldn't fathom how they could stand being around each other. It was late, and some of the heat of the day had died off. Taverns had their doors thrown open, spilling light and snatches of noise out into the streets. Here, a Russian drinking song, there, an angry nationalist speech in Hungarian, and down the street, two young men argued in angry German. He smirked. Ah, the sounds of