A king, a leader of his kingdom and the saviour of his people, has been utterly, undeniably betrayed by the ones who had stood by his side through war and loss, only to turn against him at the very end. His people no longer care for overthrown royalty. They cast him out and set their hounds upon him. There will be no mercy.
A soldier, defender of his kingdom and the lowest of the low in the military, has been completely, irrevocably destroyed by their enemies in the first war of his life. His is a small fraction of what others go through, nothing important, nothing extraordinary, and yet its importance is undeniable. A story of firsts and lasts and things of war.
In the aftermath, when the Valkyries come to collect the souls of the heroes and when the slaves of Hell come too, to gather that of the undeserving. A poem about torture and pain, about fury and hope.
[Please comment your views on this! I welcome any constructive criticism you have.]