I would like to publicly apologize to all my readers who end up crying at the end of all my posts, haha. Maybe this one won't be so bad... we'll just have to see how I write it. By the way... does anyone know how I can make the "Labels" I am putting on my posts now useful in some way... as in like a button that sorts my posts or a link that goes to only one kind of post? [Note: after writing this, I think I have to say that even I have a lump in throat... so it may be a bit rough on some of you...]
Caesar had dove back into his rocks as soon as he heard more voices come out of the camp. He hadn't known any people to be kind to him, and, perhaps rightly so, he doubted that these would be either. They had bigger machines than they had ever had. The renegades always moved on foot.
The king made his way to his throne, the theater, and there he mounted the stage again. He began his song, but failed mid-way through the first long note. His harmony was gone. He tried to imagine that she was there, as he had imagined his parents and Marcus for many years, but her voice would not come through.
Finally Marcus cried from the theater seats that Caesar should go home and rest his voice. After all, he had forgotten to brush his hair that morning anyway. Happy for that bit of advice, Caesar dismounted the stage and bounded and crawled his way back into the rubbish heap that led down into his shaft.
Having completed the descent he went straightway to the powerful bars that could light up his tunnels. Normally he didn't light them, but he had carving to do. As soon as he saw the little glowing colorful fruits, he turned away, just looking down into his deep tunnel. He arrived at the second to last room, the hall of his own records, and taking up his chisel again he banged into the wall:
Caesar's frend left, mor people cume. Caesar hides again.
Caesar spent the following days mostly in the catacombs, rarely venturing out to sing part of his song. A smoke with a smell that Caesar vaguely like would waft by every so often, but though the scent was pleasant it sent shudders into the king. He knew that it came from the huge machines, and that they must be moving his rocks around. But he could do nothing, and so he sang, or tried to, and then returned to his tunnel.
One day he went out abroad a little more, and saw that the girl's home had grown, pushing to the edges of a river that ran through the city. Buildings, without glass this time, were going up, and there were more of the horrible machines and bright guns then ever. On the way home from that expedition, the renegades found Caesar and lit him up with all that was left in their guns, then fleeing. Caesar didn't bother writing that down.
The next day, the king went out again and laid the foundations of a bridge across the river, pushing huge stones under the water of the river. He intended to finish it the next day, but when he came back, he saw a huge black slab laid across it. The girl's people had finished the bridge, never knowing how the stones had got in the river. Caesar went to sing, but the renegades shot at him again, so he fled down into his tunnels. And there he carved:
Caesar built part of brij. People built rest. They burned us, and Caesar could not sing.