He can’t help but loosen up at the mention of that throne. There’s no love between himself and that misguided home of heroes… It was a place he, honestly, didn’t belong in. There was no heroism in war, there was no heroism in being a soldier. Heroes were the people who, simply because they had chosen to put others before themselves, did the right thing when it was needed most.
He didn’t believe he deserved that title.
But those that knew him would disagree. There were few men in all of history as deserving of the title of “hero” as Arash. He, who would put others before himself no matter what, even if they were “the enemy”, was truly deserving of being remembered as a REAL hero.
“Well, thank you ma’am… I must admit, though, I’m sure it’s a mistake. I’m not a hero… I’m just a soldier, doing what’s right, honest.”
He hums at her question, thumbing his cheek idly as he considers it. Once upon a time, as a young man, he’d have answered in the negative. He would’ve asked for peace. He would’ve disregarded the thoughts and ideas and hearts of the world to secure silence, peaceful and serene. But with every battle fought, he grew evermore sure that such a blind peace was cruel.
Peace was something you fought for, be it in war or in words. His allies, his enemies, had all sought their ideal world, a world in which they and their own could be at peace, safe from war and suffering and death. But their ideas had never aligned with those outside their bubble. To force those bubbles to merge… Was he so cruel?
“What good is seeking an end if you achieve it by wishing? Your desires come to fruition only through the roads you walk, the wounds you take, the lives you touch, the experiences you share… I want peace, ma’am. I don’t want anyone to have to suffer.”
“But if I wish for it, it won’t be peace. It’ll be my idea of peace. And that’s not fair to the millions of people who also want peace. For us to get peace… Well, people will die. But I believe in humanity. I believe that, in time, we can achieve a peace that everybody can believe in.”
“Heheh… I guess that’s kinda ridiculous, huh?”
THOSE WITH GOLD HEARTS oft believe their beating silly. for this reason irisviel beholds archer, for a moment, quizzically. a blink of the eyes, a tilt of the head. but then she smiles and shakes her head.
‶ not in the slightest, archer. i think that’s a lovely sentiment. ″
he’s wholly and utterly correct, she quickly realizes. such is at least one pleasure ensuant of the holy grail war: so many heroes she’s seen now, few of whom would turn their nose at a warless world, find fault in un-threatened jubilation. but too therein she’s seen the duality of which archer describes ; one man’s rose garden most often is another’s grave, and all heroes are someone’s villain. to steal peace from another to provide it to one’s own –– that is the very paradigm of heroism.
‶ i knew a man once, ″ a change in her tone, still serene yet just a little more somber. ‶ he wanted to use the grail to wish for peace. but i think ... maybe he saw the same thing you're describing. ″
two-hundred lives for three-hundred.
two-hundred for one-hundred.
down dwindles the count, until only the world as one cared to know it remained. that had been that man’s peace, and it’d been a peace that he refused. ( ‘ for us to get peace... well, people will die.’ )
but silence and peace are not the same.
‶ what i wanted was a better future for my daughter, but ... well, you’ve seen that for yourself. my illyasviel – she’s someone like that. a victim of someone else’s peace. ″
theartofmadeline
origamiaround
kianamaiart
turnnoffyourmind
![Sky Full Of Song [Acoustic on BBC Radio 6]](https://64.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_pazuilWQbz1szfebro1_1530123071_cover.jpg)