Heroes Fall

Heroes fall - they are not perfect as a wheel;
They are like us, flawed, they are people, they can feel.
There was this kid, hopeful and joyous, so her story I still tell.
It is a tragic one, with an outcome the poor thing could not foretell.

She was a simple girl, one who loved the stories of old.
Of Kings and Queens, of the great and the bold.
She believed those lies which made her see an ideal self.
But she's a person, not a god, a task too hard for a little elf.

Then the people gathered to celebrate, surrounding statues to recall
The stories of old that she heard when everybody else still was so tall.
An inspiration they were! An ideal for her to reach!
Stories so beautiful that left her with no speech.

Time went on and she dreamed of becoming a hero
A shiny paragon, a hope and example for the people.
She sang and danced, trained and fenced
And after great effort, out adventuring she went.

A Deadly Rose she'd become, but one that did not yet bloom.
She thought herself ready, but her vision soon turned onto gloom.
She found herself a hero, a perfect, chivalrous man
He was all she admired, and with their peers they formed a clan.

Echoes in the night they were, there was no challenge for them.
But hard times come, and desperate measures must be made.
Her hero devised a plan, they were caught and it was his time to fall
"This is my chance!" she thought, "I know how to redeem us all!"

And still the people gathered to celebrate, surrounding statues to recall
The stories of old that she heard when everybody else still was so tall.
For so long she had waited, now she had to save her friend
"It is time" she thought, she would be a hero in the end.

They gathered and talked and decided their ruse
But when the time came, she cowered, it's no use!
"What am I doing?", she muttered, "This isn't right!"
"This isn't the work of a hero, I shouldn't be in this fight!"

She ran for criminals they've become, she and all her friends.
A hero doesn't run but also doesn't steal; these aren't her ideals.
Her hero was the worst, so dark he had become
For her betrayal, for the day she did not come.

She looked around, the world was not the same
The stories she had heard were but a fading flame.
The Lion now was gone, broken and hidden in shame.
The King was mad, his rule was not one of fame.

Now the people gather to celebrate, surrounding statues to recall
The stories of old that she heard when everybody else still was so tall.
But to her the images are broken, for she knows, it's not her call
She knows that sooner or later All Heroes Will Fall...

-- a song by Aria Dabalan, the Bard