You Have Killed My Son
You have imagined this moment. You have savoured the prospect with an almost greedy anticipation. Now it’s finally here. So where, then, is your father’s wrath? Where is His horror? Where is His… anything? You expected the chastising fury of an enraged patriarch, or the anguished pleading of a heartbroken parent. But He just stands there, staring at you. Your glory is something to behold. You haven’t seen Him for a long time. You’ve changed. You’ve grown. You’re not the child He remembers. Maybe He needs a moment to accept that. He’s changed too. He seems small. A shadow of His former self. In truth, you were secretly afraid of this reunion. The father you remember was a huge and terrible force of majesty. His presence always overwhelmed you. At His side, long ago, during those thirty perfect years, you always felt safe and scared in equal measure. He was everything. You adored Him with every fibre of your being. You flinched every time He spoke a word. But look at Him. Look at Him. Oh, He still appears impressive. The golden armour glinting in its own sunlight. The mantle about His shoulders like a cloak of silks cut from the finest damask nightfall and the richest royal blood. The stature. The serenity. The long and gleaming black hair. The noble, haloed face. The crown of radiance that rests upon Him. The Imperial aspect. But He does seem small. It’s the natural way of things, you presume. To a child, a father seems an infallible, perfect giant. But the child grows up. He begins to notice the flaws and imperfections. The child matures, and the father grows ever smaller and more frail. You wonder that you were ever cowed by Him. You have outgrown Him. This, this is what you were afraid of? This, a man in antique armour, come to remonstrate with you and exert His authority? He still thinks He can subdue you with the merest look or utterance. Not any more. You realise you have always been afraid of what you thought He was, not what He actually is. You hope His silence indicates that He has reached a similar conclusion. It is time for Him to be afraid of you. Perhaps He’s choosing his words carefully +You have killed my son.+ -The End and the Death: Volume III [by Dan Abnett]
By Xalilar