Sitting upon the throne in his chamber, the Bull-Headed King watches as he calculates his next move. Too strong a grip and the realm shatters under a tyrant; too weak an Emperor and he becomes a puppet king. Decisions are based not on what is easy but what is needed for the good of all.
In the shaping of an Emperor, the child was broken and molded; remade in order to be worthy of standards created by men who see only the icon of their idealized self. What of the son who bears the mark of the father; what of the halfing child with horns of a beast?
Do the rules we follow define us; or the ones we create for ourselves?
In setting boundaries, the Emperor creates a structure that becomes a reflection of his character. In the raising of the child, he imposes expectations befitting his heir.
But buildings crumble as time marches on oblivious to man-made ideals; rules become stifling. Emperors were once mortals living within the confines of responsibility; or the lack of it.
Yet the legacy of the Emperor lives on long after the man himself and the structure of that legacy will become the testimony of his worth; like the child that becomes the reflection of his guardians.