Author's Note: Used as an application essay for Kenyon College once upon a time...by this very author.
You don't know me. You don't know anything about me, and yet here you are, pouring your life's story – woes and joys both, into my ears as if you think it will help.
Foolish mortal child. I am the invincible, and I have better things to do than to listen to a child's words.
And yet – something holds me here, listening though you know it not. I hear you, child, and even if you do not have full knowledge of how well I hear you, I can sense that you take comfort anyway. What small graces are these, then, that Fate lends us? A listening ear, no matter the state of being is priceless.
I hear you, child, and though I will never weep for you, rest assured your story has cracked my heart of stone.
Your eyes are wide, child, with the terror of a friendless soul. Believe me when I say I know. The same fear once coursed through me.
It passes, in time. All things pass.
For now, pretend a brave soul. The world will not look askance at courage, but carrion-eaters both man and beast will follow you should your weakness betray itself.
You need not fear forever. You will find someone true. Everyone does. The only trouble is how long they can stay by your side.
So, take heart, young one. Let the sun drink these water drops from your face. Do not let them know you have been weping here. Do not give them another weapon against you. Be strong, be fearless, and keep your eyes open.
The rest will come in time, I pledge you.
Once again you come before me, crying. Will you never come joy-filled?
No matter – you speak, and I listen.
Child, there is turmoil in your life. I had hoped – but hope is the weapon of a fool, and it shatters upon the first engagement.
Softly now; no need to rail at the dead. You know I won't leave another whose heart is so akin to my own. I cannot offer you advice, child, and for that I am sorry.
You will discover the truth on your own, and the answers will not come easily. Better for you to learn yourself than for me to tell you, anyway. I have my doubts that you would believe me.
I fear the gods did not give me life that I might give comfort, but that I could inspire. My gift is of little use in my present condition, and inspiration only goes so far. Yes, if it is comfort you seek, then here is not the place for you. I will wait for your return, and perhaps later, I may prove to be of more help.
Gods, but I hate being helpless.
You look as if dead, hollowed eyes waiting to be shut one final time.
Where has your childish smile, your childish fear, gone to?
You aren't crying now, but I believe that partly to be because you are as dry as a desert.
There seems to be so little left to you.
What have they done to you?
We are like in heart and spirit, you and I. We have the same thoughts, the same driving ambition. My only advantage was that I seized the moment and brought my dreams to flower.
You are letting yours rot on the vine. Save them now, or they will surely fester.
Who listens to the words of the men who claim to know all? They are deluded, or else seeking something in return.
No man can know the way the hand of Fate will move. She is an unpredictable lady. No more unpredictable in her movements than Luck, true, but where Luck favors the bold, Fate sets her own course and woe betide any in her way.
Your eyes are shining tonight, burning with the captured light of the sun. No longer do you cower before me, but stride into my presence as an equal. Once I would have been displeased by this display, but now your lack of humility only enhances the similarities between us. The lust of the conqueror shines in our eyes, as it has in the eyes of so many others.
But you, you have the fierce bearing of one of my oldest and closest friends.
Today you speak very little, but the prayers are all in your eyes. I feel them, radiate out from you. Tell me then, when did you become this warrior-kin? I do not remember the transformation in you. Was this the way of it, then, for my own family? Did I, overnight – like you – change to someone else before their eyes?
But take care now, as you set out to bend the world to your will. There truly is nothing but pain waiting for you in the wake of glory. A lonelier heart than that of the god of the world never existed.
Remember this as you set your eyes on conquest:
Once upon a time we were much the same, but I fear now the spirit of the conqueror fades from my blood.
Perhaps, to be replaced in you.
It's been a long time since I last glimpsed you. No one cares to visit me anymore. I fear I may be going to seed under sheer boredom.
Speak, then, and let me know of the goings-on in the world.
It is strange to consider that I – who once went the length of the earth – might now be humbled to asking for news. Speak, then, that I may know.
The proud bronze of your breastplate shimmers like blood in the slowly dying evening light. You never used to come in the evenings to see me. You used to come near the height of day, crumpling to your knees before me. Have you changed so much then? I have told you we are one in heart. I have told you the fate that awaits you should you pursue this folly.
But perhaps to a young, brave heart, ownership of the world is not folly. Choose your followers with care. Look to their shield arms – the bearing of the weak side of a man is more important than how he carries his strong side.
Check their eyes before you lead them – search for the fanatic loyalty that would have them beg to follow you should you order them home.
Give them speeches to rouse their blood and put promises in their heads.
But wary, also be. Men are fickle creatures – fast to cheer, swift to whisper, and quick to flee. Trust them as brothers, but never more. Too many times have brothers killed their kin, and friends even oftener so. Whether the lust be for glory, gold, or some other unimaginable, try to keep them as one.
Dissention is a plague that strikes without warning. Left to fester it will destroy you.
Go, then, and may Fortune favor you.
It has been long, though maybe not so long as you might think. Careworn and tired – yes I can see that. All the restlessness is gone from your body.
Did a few months so strip you of your pride, then?
Rise to your full height once again. I had warned you about the men. They are quick to change their minds, and it is only to be expected of them. They do not share the great visions of their leaders. Even if they did, do you think they would willingly endure what trials they face? I thought you knew better than that.
A man must eat to survive, and all the patriotic spirit in the world could not drive that need from him. Such fanaticism will not save them, though, or you. A man crazed with the idea of an afterlife will impale himself on a pike to kill the weapon's owner. That dead man does your army no good.
It is the strong of spirit, the strong of soul who will help you forge your empire. And only those who are strong of soul will live to see another day.
I have never seen you tremble before. You shake like a young sapling, its roots barely set in place. I'm not your god, so don't kneel before me. I only can offer a temporary reprieve from your duties, not a permanent solution.
Once you seemed so mighty to me, but now look at yourself.
Your eyes no longer shine.
Your face has adopted the look of a frightened animal.
You are tired – that much is plain. If you harbor the same incessant drive as I did, I know this is merely the beginning for you. I do not possess a gift of foresight, but in my own time, I saw the world.
In my own time, I ruled the world. That conquest came at a high price.
Who do you turn to when you are ruler of the earth and everyone despises you? I regret that I can give you no solution, but if I were able to, then would I not be one of the gods?
I am no god, but I am immortal in a way you will only achieve if you can put your personal fears behind you. Reach for the greatest dream you have, and conquer the world again.
She longs to be united as one.
Look out to the east. You haven't gone half so far as I.
You've barely left home, and yet your troops have already rebelled against you. What pitiful stuff are you made of?
On your feet, pathetic mortal. As a mere child you had more faith in one finger than resides in your whole being now.
Rise up.
Vanish from here, and take your failure with you. I never tolerated failures among my own.
You must inspire them. Make them long to follow you.
It is the conqueror's gift, and gods be damned, it lives in you if you would but use it.
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