No More Heroes Any More

He had spent most of his adult life as a fictional character and it was now as he looked back that he realised what a waste his life had been. What of import had it been that he had achieved?

Maybe it had started with his childhood, that would be of the norm. He had been an imaginary friend to a minor royal, too minor to inculcate responsibility, but with rich with the freedom of wealth. It had been idyllic, and a grounding for what should have been a fertile adolescence. Instead like many of us, it got lost in the translating and youth was simply frittered away to the wind. Youthful expectations turned to sour emergence into a mostly uneventful adulthood in which he was rarely positioned above the banal. Admittedly there was talk of a noble prize, but he was killed off before the start of the final chapter and so nothing ever came of it. Yet again he fell short of the requirements, never quite succeeding at what should have been his field of expertise. He had always strived to be the hero of the common man, but now there was no call for such a character, he was universally discarded, left to the occasional reminiscence or condemned to badly thought out historical tracts. His dotage would not be the fine affair that he had once imagined.