Contest #238 shortlist ⭐️

The Swan Songs

Submitted into Contest #238 in response to: Set your story at a silent retreat.... view prompt

77 comments

Fantasy Funny Fiction

Eobald the Younger, formerly King of Tretovortania, pulled at his burlap robe to discreetly get at a particularly insistent shoulder itch. When he grunted, the abbot glared at him, and Eobald cast his eyes to the dirt path in shame. To his dirty, dirt endirted feet, covered in so much dirt and so little silk.

“Be at peace, child,” said the abbot. His abbot now, because now the former king was a current Aspirant Listener of the Gentlest Wind. “The time will soon come. For now, comfort yourself with the sacred song of the swan.”

As if on cue, one of the wretched hell birds honked, and where the abbot closed his eyes in some kind of divine bliss, a bone rumbling tremor ran down Eobald’s spine. Why they were sacred he had no idea. They had ponds dedicated to them all over the monastery grounds, and the bloody bog vultures never shut up about it. It was ha-honk ha-honk HONK! all day and night with them.

And they were nasty. He covered his right hand with his left, remembering the last time he was on feeding duty. One of the blasted shithawks came right at him, trying to tear his fingers off. Ended up stealing all the bread and his feeding bowl too.

“Isn’t that divine?” asked the abbot.

Eobald gave him a tight-lipped grin and nodded.

“Well, we’ll have time enough for contemplating their divine song later,” said the abbot. He motioned to the round wattle-and-daub visitors’ hut at the edge of the monastery. “I believe you have a visitor.”

It was all Eobald could do to refrain from sprinting into the hut. Inside he found a plain wooden table with two plain wooden chairs, a beat up copper teapot and a pair of the cracked clay bowls that passed for teacups in the monastery. And as the windows had neither glass nor shutters, the squawking of the swans tore through the hut. But most important was the man sitting on the other side of the table – a dashing young chap, in glorious silk attire dyed rich yellow and blue, and wearing a golden crown so encrusted with gems it splattered rainbows on all the walls from the sunlight it reflected.

Randalfric the Conqueror, current King of Tretovortania and Her Territories.

Eobald’s son.

“Your Majesty,” said the abbot, bowing painfully low and painfully slow, really squeezing out every last ounce of protocol, which they didn’t otherwise have much cause to practice in the monastery. Eobald felt his whole body tense as he resisted tapping his foot. “As per your request, might I present the young Aspirant, Eobald Swan-Witness.”

Eobald bit his tongue, and as soon as Randalfric gave the slightest motion, he dove into the chair opposite his son.

“Aspirant,” said the abbot, dragging the word out. He produced a tiny silver bell. “When I ring this bell, I shall suspend your vow of silence.”

Eobald nodded eagerly. The abbot raised the bell, and Eobald felt the tension starting to leave his body. The abbot raised the bell a little higher, a little slower, and the tension hesitated. The abbot raised the bell just a smidge higher yet at a surprisingly even slower pace, and the tension came back with friends.

Finally, just as Eobald feared he was going to snap – a bone, the table, the abbot himself – the bell emitted a gentle silver tinkling.

Eobald let out a ragged breath.

The abbot smiled, and bowed to Randalfric. “You have one hour,” he told Eobald. “Then you’re on cleaning duty. The statues of the saints are just drenched in birdshit, and they’ve been baking in the sun all day.” Then he departed.

The men rose and hugged.

“Father!”

“Son! Oh, by the Holy Mountain, is it good to see you. And is it ever good to talk again!”

Randalfric slapped him on the shoulder. “A vow of silence! My own father! Incredible!”

“Yes, it’s true. They… they do that here. Apparently.”

“You have no idea how proud we all are of you back home,” said Randalfric. “Eobald the Younger, the man who not only conquered Lagmarnia, but who also brought peace to the Six Valleys, and who united the Unruly Dukes. A man who conquered the realms of men, and then threw himself at the feet of the gods, to learn of their infinite wisdom!”

“I… yes…”

“A living saint! Did you know, that’s what they call you?”

“No, we don’t get much news in the monastery…”

“And to think, Uncle Bradovic called you mad! He said – What kind of a man would willingly give up the crown of Tretovortania!? What kind of lunatic would trade a life of luxury and riches and power and feasting, for a life of porridge and hard labour high in the mountains!?”

“Hmm…”

“I’ll tell you what kind of a man – my father! A man who saw past the petty illusions we surround ourselves with in daily life, and who sought something deeper, something greater. A connection with the infinite wisdom of reality!”

“Er, yes, well…”

“And I admit – with not a shred of shame – I could not do the same! For I am weak, father. I am too used to being swaddled in the trappings of power, and luxury, and – oh, right! And to give up women! Wow! I don’t think I could ever do that, even for all the grace of the gods.”

Eobald groaned.

“I admit all this is beyond me. But, I am proud – proud – to stand anywhere near your enlightened shadow. Your selfless pursuit of perfection inspires us all, and serves as an example to all Tretovortanians.”

Eobald swallowed a lump. “…Super.”

“But listen to me prattling on like a wee babe, about the foolishness of courtly things, when you have transcended such trivial concerns.”

“Well, actually–”

“Is it true you can hear the gods speak to you through the songs of the swans?”

They both turned their attention to the window, where a hu-HRAWNK! echoed from the ponds. Eobald felt his skin shiver, bunching up at his neck. He shook it off with a sharp hiss of breath.

“Yeah, they’re, um,” he said, and then he clicked his tongue a couple times. “Very enlightening. Hey, listen, actually I would like to hear what’s going on back at home. As I said, we don’t really get news here, and I worry about you.”

“Oh, Dad! Worry? About me!? But that’s absurd. I learned from the very best king ever.

“Yeah, but, you know a king doesn’t rule alone, right? Like, maybe you need someone to advise you…”

“Ha!” said Randalfric. Then he laughed for emphasis. “I am nearly drowning in advisors. Sages, mystics, and wisemen pour in from all corners of the world to advise me. Philosophers and wizards fight for my attention. I can’t take three steps in my palace without bumping into a scholar with yet another insightful economic treatise for me to review.”

“Oh…” Eobald bit his lip. “But, oh! That’s all good and all, but a king could really benefit from the advice of another king – you know, someone who’s gone through the same things. Like when I was younger, Porselfaust the Turgid tutored me in–”

Randalfric waved him off with a chuckle. “All too true, father, all too true! And funny you bring it up, because I happen to have recently founded a Council of Kings, where myself and the other monarchs of the Six Valleys come together precisely for such purposes.”

“…ah.”

“I have learned so much from my peers! Truly, the world is much better when we cooperate instead of trying to murder each other on the battlefield. It opens the door for us combining our forces, to murder foreigners on the battlefield.”

“Yes, well…”

Randalfric produced a goblet cut from a single diamond, and then a hip flask made of gold, and poured.

Eobald’s eyes widened. He grabbed one of the crappy clay bowls and scattered the tea against the wall, and held it out to his son.

Randalfric tipped his flask to the bowl, but snapped it back before anything came out.

“A-ha!” he said. “Almost got me! A test of faith, from my own father. Ah, but I know monks foreswear the baser liquors of the world too, and I will not commit a folly by pouring such an affront for you.”

“Great,” said Eobald, lowering his bowl. “Thanks.”

“I’ve learned well, haven’t I? I told you, your selfless quest has inspired us all.”

“Yep,” said Eobald, and then he sighed. “Well, listen son, being a king is hard work.”

Randalfric shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe?”

“Yeah, no, it is, trust me. I used to be one.”

“Yeah, but, like, I don’t know. Mostly it’s just telling other people to do stuff, and then they do it.”

“Yeah, but, ‘Heavy is the head that wears the crown’ and all that.”

“It’s actually quite comfortable.”

“I don’t mean – listen. There’s no shame in passing the torch on.”

“What? To little Frandalfric? But he’s barely seen his fifth summer yet. I think he’s got a long time before he needs to worry about the crown.”

“Yeah, to him, or, you know…”

“What?”

“You could pass the torch backwards?” Eobald finished, pantomiming receiving a torch.

“I don’t follow.”

“Like – or maybe, if you ever wanted a break from being a king. Like, there’s options.”

“Like a vacation?”

“Yeah! Then you could maybe appoint someone to run things. Someone with experience?

“Uncle Bradovic?”

“No! Not Uncle Bradovic. Someone else.”

“I don’t know. I like kinging around.”

“I mean, it might seem that way, but it’s easy to get buried in work, son. And then your family life suffers, and your health is affected. A break is a good thing every now and then.”

“Hmm. I never thought of it that way.”

“Yeah! Taking a break is a good idea. Maybe even retiring altogether, and leaving someone else in charge?”

Randalfric scratched his chin. “Come to think of it, I haven’t seen too much of my wife lately, nor had any time to visit the summer palace with the kids. Maybe… maybe I am missing out.”

“Right!”

“But anyone else I’d appoint would just suffer the same fate.”

“Well, I’m sure I could manage–”

“I suppose I could abolish the crown altogether and institute a democracy?”

NO!” said Eobald. “No no no no no! Why would you even say that!?”

“Well, I don’t know, maybe the head is heavy that bears the crown. Maybe it’s an inherently unjust system–”

“–Son,” said Eobald, draping his arm over his son’s shoulder. “Listen. Listen. All you need to do, right?”

“Right?”

“Is find someone – someone who might be very close – who knows how to manage the kingdom, right? And just… abdicate.”

“Abdicate?”

Eobald nodded.

“But who would be qualified? Someone who is very close?”

Eobald nodded again, making hand gestures to draw his son’s reasoning out. Randalfric frowned, deep in thought.

“Come on, son. Someone very close, right now. Someone like…”

“Someone like…” Then his eyes suddenly lit up. “Oh! You mean someone like–”

The silver bell tinkled again, and the brightness in Randalfric’s eyes gave way to dull glaze.

“Time’s up!” said the abbot.

“What was I saying?” Randalfric said. “Oh well, must not have been important.” He clapped Eobald on the shoulder again. “Good chat, dad! I’ll think about that democracy idea of yours. See you next year!”

With a swoosh of his silk cape, Randalfric departed the visitors’ centre. Eobald’s jaw worked soundlessly up and down, and then he grunted when the abbot shoved a bucket and mop in his hands.

“Time to clean!” sang the abbot. “You know our motto: enlightenment comes from enlabourment. Chop chop!”

Eobald shuffled out of the visitor centre, passing the serene ponds and carefully cultivated gardens, walking the paths that countless enlightened masters walked before him, ever seeking wisdom in the dulcet hwa-RAWNK! of the divine songs of the swans.

February 20, 2024 03:18

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77 comments

Marty B
05:08 Feb 20, 2024

104! "I am proud – proud – to stand anywhere near your enlightened shadow. Your selfless pursuit of perfection inspires us all, and serves as an example to all.... Reedsians!!”

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Michał Przywara
21:38 Feb 20, 2024

Thanks, Marty! That's 52 weeks in a row, done twice. I think this one might be my swan song for a while :)

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Marty B
16:54 Feb 21, 2024

Yes, the titles of your last two submissions tipped me off ;) Good luck on your next project! I have tried to work on longer stories, but I keep getting pulled back in (sucker for contests)!

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Michał Przywara
21:36 Feb 21, 2024

Thanks, Marty! I think I know what you mean. I didn't think I'd be so fond of short stories, but they draw you in. Addictive for sure :)

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03:17 Feb 26, 2024

I'd never catch the hidden meanings in these short stories if not for everyone's explainers in the comments! 52 weeks in a row x 2! That's amazing. ! I'm almost there but missed a few;) Writers block seems not to affect some of us. If we redirect that energy into novel writing I think we all have a few harry potters in us that for sure haha. (but the fast feedback is so addictive writing online)

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Michał Przywara
23:17 Feb 26, 2024

Ha, no doubt! Super addictive :) But that's not unusual. I think we all want to be read after all.

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Tom Skye
19:55 Feb 22, 2024

Wowsa, Michal. I was knocked for six in the first few paragraphs as you set the backdrop, but once the father/son conversation kicked in, I was smiling and laughing until the end. Really good back and forth between the fed-up dad and the oblivious son. The fact they were on a time limit made the whole scenario more frustrating for Eobald (and hilarious for us). The back and forth reminded me of a scene in the UK comedy Blackadder where a WW1 General has given his assistant the 'privilege' of going over the top in the next big push. The ass...

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Michał Przywara
21:36 Feb 23, 2024

Thanks, Tom! I appreciate it :) I've always enjoyed Blackadder, though I think I've only seen the medieval ones. Excellent point you bring up about the time limit too. I sometimes worry there's not enough tension in my writing, and a time pressure is a way to add it. Bit of the old bomb ticking in the background, making the characters squirm. Thanks for sharing your thoughts!

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Tom Skye
21:49 Feb 23, 2024

Blackadder series 4 was WW1. Check it out. The final episode is considered one of the greatest moments in UK TV history.

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Trudy Jas
05:51 Feb 20, 2024

tried to get at a particular insistent itch, and the tension came back with friends. And could he have raised his son to be any denser. We should all take a vow of silence. in deference to you. Nah, just a cheer and applause, milk a very slow bow for all it;s worth Another maserpiece

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Michał Przywara
21:46 Feb 21, 2024

Thanks, Trudy! Yeah, the father's too proud to outright ask, and the son's too dense :) Or maybe not, maybe he just doesn't want to give up the crown :)

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Tommy Goround
08:06 Jun 25, 2024

No mas? You better be alive and sipping that rum that Canadians like. We miss you

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Michał Przywara
00:55 Jul 02, 2024

Ha! Yeah, still alive :) Occasionally lurking, mostly buried in other projects and real life obligations. Spring this year was rough. Not productive. Might serve as inspiration for something though. Thanks for checking in.

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Tommy Goround
08:29 Jul 02, 2024

:)

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01:36 May 10, 2024

Congratulations I am so happy for u

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Michał Przywara
22:59 May 16, 2024

Thank you, Mariana!

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01:00 May 17, 2024

Np

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An Nguyen
15:08 Mar 31, 2024

Great work as always. I wasn't sure how to feel at the beginning, but I knew it would be a funny one as soon as I set my eyes on 'shithawks.' The back-and-forth between oblivious son and irritated father is hilarious. I can imagine the abbot trying not to laugh as he watches. Amazing work :)

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Michał Przywara
01:19 Apr 08, 2024

Yeah, I think the abbot's probably enjoying himself :) Maybe he too had second thoughts when he was younger, or maybe he just enjoys the situation. Glad you enjoyed the story!

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Ken Cartisano
19:10 Mar 20, 2024

52 weeks times two? Wow! That's incredible. (And humbling.) Uh-oh, this crisis has awakened my neurosis-free inner voice. Well I'm sorry to hear that you intend to take a break from short stories to write a novel, and I don't need my pathetic inner honesty to say this: Why? Don't do it. What did we do to bring you to this decision? What can I say to change your mind? I tried to write a novel once and it turned into... And it turned into a trilogy, that consumed my existence. It didn't need to be a trilogy, it just 'wanted to.' (... be a...

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Michał Przywara
19:41 Mar 23, 2024

Thanks, Ken! That's actually a good perspective, because you're right, most novel writing advice is of the “just do it” kind, but rarely do people dig into the equation of “is the time and effort worth it.” It reminds me of a book I'm reading at the moment - Josh Kaufman's The Personal MBA - which starts off questioning if MBAs are worth the time and money, and concludes that outside some niche cases, no, pretty much they aren't (vs studying the material on your own, not that the field is value-less). I guess that principle applies to pretty...

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Ken Cartisano
21:50 Mar 26, 2024

Hi Michal, I’m pleased that you were able to take my comments in their intended carefully concocted spirit of lighthearted seriousness, and I confess to a little remorse at layng a blatant guilt trip at your feet, (although I admitted it was selfish of me.) Unlike shellfish, which are totally other-oriented. In fact I was on the wrong side of the argument, if a guy writes a story a week for two years and wants a break, he deserves a break, without a bunch of (okay, one) pipsqueak newcomer haranguing him for desertion. I understand the (I...

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S. E. Foley
18:36 Mar 20, 2024

This one sung to the sardonic core of my soul. The foolish old king with no insight trying to manipulate the flakey, carefree younger king with inspiration... gets democracy. Love it.

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Michał Przywara
17:31 Mar 23, 2024

Thanks, S. E.! Be careful what you ask for, right :) It was a fun one to write, glad you enjoyed it!

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Martin Ross
20:08 Mar 11, 2024

Dude! Congratulations again! Loved the tone and cadence from beginning to end! You leave so many others in the dirty dirt indirted dust!😉👍❤️

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Michał Przywara
01:49 Mar 15, 2024

Thanks, Martin :) I'm glad you enjoyed it! It was a fun one to write :)

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Stevie Burges
11:02 Mar 07, 2024

As usual a great story. Good pacing - hanging on to the rhythm as my eyes danced over the text. So enjoyed it.

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Michał Przywara
20:53 Mar 11, 2024

Thanks, Stevie! I'm glad you enjoyed it :) It was a fun exchange to write.

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Hazel Ide
04:53 Mar 06, 2024

Great take on this prompt. Creative and amusing as always. I’m curious about your title… Congratulations on the shortlist!

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Michał Przywara
02:04 Mar 07, 2024

Thanks, Hazel! I'm glad you enjoyed it :) The title is a little meta, as after 104 weeks in a row, I'm taking a break from Reedsy to work on other projects. Of course, there are also swans and their songs in the story, so it works that way too.

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Hazel Ide
14:06 Mar 07, 2024

104 is an impressive feat, though I’m sure it’s a relief to give yourself permission to take a break. Cheers!

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Story Time
06:42 Mar 04, 2024

If you're on break for awhile, thanks for going out on such a high note. The repartee between the two of them was flawless. Enjoyable from start to finish.

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Michał Przywara
02:01 Mar 07, 2024

Thanks, glad you enjoyed it :) Yeah, time to make space for other projects :)

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John Rutherford
09:28 Mar 03, 2024

Congratulations Michal

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Michał Przywara
21:37 Mar 04, 2024

Thanks, John!

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Chris Campbell
04:31 Mar 02, 2024

The passing of the torch backwards, the king in silent retreat, the swans, and heirs to the throne. Reminds me a bit like the Royal family and the Charles, William, Harry, Megan tale of wannabees. Congrats on the shortlist, Michal.

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Michał Przywara
01:28 Mar 04, 2024

"Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental." :) Thanks for reading, Chris!

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Ty Warmbrodt
18:30 Mar 01, 2024

Congrats on your short list, Michal. Well earned.

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Michał Przywara
23:24 Mar 01, 2024

Thanks, Ty!

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Angela M
04:15 Feb 29, 2024

I love how comedic the dialogue is! The cut-off was perfectly timed. I laughed out loud when I read it! I can’t wait to read more from you!

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Michał Przywara
17:23 Mar 03, 2024

Thanks, Angela! I'm glad you enjoyed it :)

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Paul Simpkin
10:53 Feb 27, 2024

This is the first time I have read one of your stories. I really enjoyed the comedy. You write very well. Excellent dialogue.

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Michał Przywara
23:13 Feb 27, 2024

Thanks, Paul! Comedy was definitely the goal - I'm glad you enjoyed it :) I appreciate the feedback!

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Robert Egan
22:56 Feb 25, 2024

Your comedy shines especially bright in the fantasy genre. I'd devour the book if this were a scene from it. I love the irony of renouncing wider society only to be held in place by silly societal expectations, and your dialogue was a delight to read. Also, I'll never able to think of swans as anything but shithawks from now on (with perhaps the occasional bog vulture).

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Michał Przywara
23:53 Feb 26, 2024

Thanks, Robert :) I think I first heard that term in reference to gulls, and it's stuck since. One of those unforgettable words. “renouncing wider society only to be held in place by silly societal expectations” is a great way to put it. Even the freedom of enlightenment comes with rules, doesn't it? I appreciate the feedback!

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Robert Egan
00:26 Mar 02, 2024

Congrats on shorty status (I wish it had been this week's winner)! From the comments, it sounds like you may start focusing on other writing projects, but I hope to see more from you here or elsewhere. You're a great writer, Michal!

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Michał Przywara
17:38 Mar 03, 2024

Thank you, Robert, that means a lot! Yeah, it's time for a break to make room for other projects, but I'll keep an eye on the prompts. I don't want to lose the discipline of a story a week :)

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Kayla Wikaryasz
03:16 Feb 25, 2024

Love the relationship between the father and son! I also think this story is very "campy" in a way that it exists in a fantasy realm, feels archaic, but uses colloquial words like "dad." Also, ever watch the PBS series Mercy Street. A character says something similar to your line, "Yeah, but, ‘Heavy is the head that wears the crown’ and all that."

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Michał Przywara
21:34 Feb 26, 2024

Thanks, Kayla! Campy's a good word for it, as it definitely wasn't entirely serious :) I haven't seen Mercy Street. I mostly pulled that out of Shakespeare's Henry IV, though I realize now it's a misquote. So it goes :) I'm glad you enjoyed it!

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Kayla Wikaryasz
16:55 Feb 27, 2024

Ah! Yes! I forgot about that. :)

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Helen A Smith
17:19 Feb 24, 2024

Great story and I love the idea of the king being in a silent retreat and wanting to return to being king. Swans are indeed beautiful, but scary. You will be greatly missed on Reedsy. Hope you absence won’t be too long. Thanks for your critiques and support. Good title! Hope all goes well with your writing project. I’m sure it will be enjoyable and injected with all your characteristic humour and insights. It won’t be the same without you.

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Michał Przywara
21:36 Feb 26, 2024

Thanks, Helen! I appreciate that :) Bit of “buyer's remorse” giving up that crown here :) I still plan on checking in periodically, and I look forward to reading more of your stories. Can't keep putting off the other projects forever though :)

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