text: [Themes: love & dating]
  
  You're surrounded by trees once again. The moss beneath you gives way with every step you make. It's your second day on the hunt. Your prey is getting closer.
  
  Elaria was right. The duke did exactly what she'd expected. You both worked hard for this day, recruiting trustworthy men without allegiance. She had stayed behind while you indulged in your desires. You made a good team together.
  
  You spotted the tracks some time ago. It was obvious they both had no experience of moving through nature. Even a bear's tracks were harder to follow. You could almost read their conversation by their footsteps and the broken branches. They even carved out a stupid heart.
  
  There, you see them. It's eerily quiet. You order your men to crouch through the thick underbrush, carefully evading any dead branches. They know what to do. They've trained for this. You follow them from a distance, holding only a sword. It should suffice.
  
  Your men split, dividing themselves into two groups. It's a variation of the old pincer maneuver. One side will chase them as panicked dogs to the other. The wind roars its displeasure at the act you're committing. It's sharp blows tear your eyes. You're left alone with your blinding vengeance.
  
  It should be any moment now.
  
  You see one group closing in, faces covered in paint transforming them into terrifying monstrosities. When they're mere meters away, they deliberately make a sound. The duke turns first, seemingly on edge. He gives a bone-chilling scream and pulls your wife with him. Good, at least he didn't abandon her in grave times.
  
  They run. They force themselves forward as fast as they can, running from certain death. Sometimes they stumble, sometimes get separated, it's all useless. They are surrounded.
  
  The two parties now fully show themselves, armed with swords and nets. They move in position, enveloping their prey.
  
  This is what you lived for. The last months have been spent with only one goal in mind. Seeing your two targets trapped simply makes you feel alive. You once again feel yourself master over your own destiny.
  
  Isabella has already been caught. The nets entangled and captured her beyond saving. Your other target has had much more luck. He's stronger and faster. The fear makes him entirely another beast to deal with, much more ferocious. He seemingly holds his own against the tide. He cuts through nets, parries swords and dodges any lunges. Seeing his precarious position, he charges through the encirclement, cutting off any chance of a clean capture.
  
  That's when you have to jump in. With a loud yell, you catch his attention. He curses and changes direction, running straight at you.
  
  > lunge forward at the last possible moment.
  You see the beast running up to you with all its fury, with all his strength. You see it gripping its sword with both hands and crouch in your own stance. There's no stopping that power, you'll have to be faster.
  
  You close your eyes and jump forwards, sword facing your enemy. You feel resistance, push through with all your might. You push until you feel him touching your sword's guard.
  
  There you have your beast. It's skewered and ready. The hunted has become the hunter once again. You look into its eyes and see the man you've hated for so long, gasping for air, grasping for life. You squirm your blade around, enjoying every last bit of hurt you can inflict. This is your vengeance. This is what he deserves.
  
  You stare into his eyes. They are filled with pain and betrayal, unknowing how such a beautiful day could end so wretchedly. It feels good. The more of yourself you recognize in him, the better your revenge tastes. You continue staring until you finally see his light leaving his body. Your job is done.
  
  You move on to your love, your sweet Isabella, drunk on power.
  
  "Robert! What are you doing? Please, Robert, please!" she cries out.
  
  Yes, how could you? You don't even deign her worthy of a response. With the back of your hand, you trace her facial features. There she is, the woman that brought you so much happiness. Even in this entangled state, she was still so beautiful.
  
  "Stop it, Robert! I am sorry! Please stop..."
  
  You'll make it stop, grant her that one last wish. With a sharp cut, you end your bond to her life.
  
  It feels every bit as good as you had hoped.
  
  > Epilogue
  "For this is the conclusion of our tale about Lord Robert the Ironfisted. He ended his journey with the same determination he had started it. Eventually, he moved on from the chains holding him back and became the founder of our little kingdom," you end your story bombastically.
  
  It was a good tale. It was a tale of love and betrayal, of a bond both toxic and divine. The ending was your personal touch. You'd hope your public would appreciate the stylistic semblance between the hunt that caused the journey and the hunt that ended it.
  
  As you look down the patrons of tonight's evening, you don't see any of the standing ovation you had hoped for. It's quite the opposite.
  
  "Why did you end it like this?" a patron so eloquently asks.
  
  "It was a tale about his rise. It was a tale about his initial wife. It was a tale of love so sour it could move any man to tears-"
  
  "The only thing that we should move is you," another patron joins his fellow friend. Damn imbeciles are oblivious to your refined entertainment.
  
  "Good sir, it's hardly warranted to debase ourselves to petty insults." Maybe with some smoothing over you could still get paid.
  
  "Sounds something a pretty boy like you would say, bard," he huffs back.
  
  It's no use. These uncultured swines are blind to your brilliance. You deserve better. You worked on this story for months, forgoing official schooling to chase your dreams. You won't let them stop you. Let them try.
  
  Armed with nothing but your trusty mandolin and your wit you're off once again.
  
  It's time for new stories and new adventures.