∴ A Regal Reflection∴
Brass and blue. The evening sun, brazen against the deepening Mediterranean. The treasures of ancient kings, their knowledge forever lost. An unforgiving flame rushing to meet shaded streets.
You stare for a long time at the sword in your hand, its seed-pod pommel glimmering golden in the dusk. When you stepped off the ship into this city of legend, the sword spoke of potential. Of promise. Now, mere days later as would-be knights flee burning streets with arms full of plunder, its beauty is a hollow reminder and its weight one burden too many.
You hear a shout and recognise your name. Your ship is departing. It’s over, then. With a roar of betrayal and bewilderment, you hurl the once-treasured weapon into indigo waters and turn to leave Alexandria.
You pray the next soul who finds it might put it to nobler use.