What Richard first remembered was nothing but the smallest and most miserable things: the cold, hard walls and the silence that echoed around him. His parents' absence was the main feature of his very early years. They had built a world around him that was not only cold but also very hard from the beginning. He was soon to discover that love was not enough; only strength, intelligence, and determination would secure a person's place in the world.
However, there was that part of him still alive that would not give up. Other kids were crying and Richard was just watching. The others were begging, he was making calculations. The others were feeling fear, he was doing the planning. He was way ahead of his time in intelligence; he was a giant who could nibble off problems like cords; and he was strong quite beyond his little body's limits. It was that combination of; sharp mind, resilient heart, and unwavering resolve that would set the foundation for the man he will be.
But the twist of fate did not help at the beginning of his tale. It just left him in the company of the silent, in the moments when he was not even acknowledged by the world. Still, in the gloomiest parts of his early life, he kept on dreaming. He was dreaming of something that no other person could take away from him and which was already stretching beyond the cold walls of his forsaken home. He was dreaming of glory, he was dreaming to have a meaning and he was dreaming of a fate that no one could refuse him.
One day, while he was the only one in a dark room filled only with candle light, an old man suddenly came up to him. A mentor who, so to speak, had already been watching over Richard's intellect and unyielding spirit. The man's voice was soft but at the same time powerful: "Richard... the world will not wait until you are ready. The strength is not given, it is acquired, thought by thought, blow by blow, never forget that."
Richard affirmed the old man's words with a nod, while he was trying to get rid of the lump in his throat. "I... I will not let you down," he said quietly, more to himself than to the old man.
He will see in his dreams that night himself being in dazzling armor, a sword by his side, fighting in wars that would shake the very foundations of the kingdoms. He viewed himself in front of the throne, not as a visitor, but as the king himself-a ruler who earned his right, not through birth, but by hardships, blood, and he fierce will. He saw friends and foes, wins and losses, joy and sorrow. Each fantasy spoke of a future that appeared impossible, yet overwhelmingly real.
Richard realized even at that time, the way to greatness would not be easy. There would be treachery. There would be grief. There would be evenings when the world's weight would almost overpower him and days when the burden of waiting would make him feel sore in the shoulders. But, he was aware, the way was for him to tread; and every hurdle, every sore, every error would contribute to the making of the man whom he was destined to be.
The child who had formerly looked into the darkness all alone was now picturing a future where light and darkness were mingled. He would be promoted not because the world was nice to him, but because he would deserve it with every drop of blood, every ounce of sweat, every mental trick sharpened into strategy. From the barracks to the bloody battle, from the king's council to the court whispers, Richard would evolve—not merely a knight, but a myth.
The dream even though it had already started fading, only leaving the icy fact of his small, lonely room, Richard smiled. He smiled because he knew something that the humanity would not grasp: the future wearer of the crown has already come to the end of his journey. Every scar that he would get, every friendship that he would make or lose, every option that would appear impossible would bring him closer to that throne.
And thus the tale is told—not with a king, not with splendor, but with a boy. A boy whose only weapons were his brain, strength and a dream.
The dream of a knight.
The dream of a king.