A blind man's demise

"So what if I'm a tyrant?"

Even though he was the highest power in this country, the supremacy, the representation of power and absoluteness, so it was unthinkable that something simple and insignificant such as a title or nickname could bother his excellency in person. And yet here he was mumbling and grumbling while walking up and down in his room.

"They call me The Tyrant, The Oppressor, The Senatus Killer and what not. I did what was best for the people in this country and yet they give me these names, blaming ME for doing what was necessary."

He was dressed in plebeians clothing and prepared himself to take a stroll through the streets of his city, it was one of his pastimes, looking at how the people of his country are developing under his rule. With practised hands, he activated the mechanism of a hidden door, that led into a passage, which's existence was kept a secret from everyone even his most trusted followers. It had multiple exits, one of them being in a small alley with no passers-by, that would be able to witness him suddenly surging from a chunk of disappeared floor.

The sky was as clear as it could be, without a single cloud on the horizon. Taking a stroll through the city with such weather, made him calm down from the outburst of rage he had a few moments ago. Seeing how the city, no, the country he reigned flourished in prosperity and wealth had a calming effect on him. A pleasant smell of freshly baked bread interrupted his thoughts, it had a sweet scent to it and immediately attracted all of his attention towards a small bakery at the side of the road.

"'The Last Oven', what a strange name to give to a shop that produces such pleasant smells."

He entered the bakery and was immediately greeted with a bright smile on the face of a young lad, probably the owner's son or apprentice.

"A wonderful morning Sir, what would you like to purchase?"

"Ohoho, good morning lad, I'd like to have the bread that emits this pleasant sweet smell"

"Good choice Sir, that is but our latest creation a bread as soft and fluffy as the finest pillow and with a slight sweet taste to it. How many would you like to purchase?"

"Three please", he showed the number with his fingers, knowing that the lad might not be educated.

While the boy was busy packing the three chunks of bread ordered by him, an unpleasant silence filled the room.

"If I may ask you, something boy. I heard that the current ruler of this country was a Tyrant, so I was hesitant to travel through it but it seems to me that these lands are prospering more than ever, were those rumours a lie?"

The lad stopped mid-air and leaned forward so that nobody nearby could hear his whispering.

"No, that's the truth, around four years ago he stormed the Senatus and took over this country. You know before he overthrew the government we, the plebians, could select some of us who would then be present in the Senatus and represent our interests."

"But weren't those corrupted, I mean to remember that when I passed here five years ago the city was more run down than now and most of the people couldn't even afford to buy such excellent bread like yours here."

"That is just a method to silence us so that he can keep the power to himself, he just recently raised the taxes even more than they already were. We are now giving him more than half of the half of our earnings!"

"You mean one-quarter of your earnings?"

"What?"

"Oh sorry, nevermind this old man's rumbling. Thank you for sharing your thoughts with me young lad and have a nice day."

Despised by his own people and country for saving them from a corrupted system that used the people's blindness of wanting power, by giving them what they wanted even if it was just an illusion. Fooled in thinking that they had a say in this rotten country, they accepted every new law that was created even if it was to their own disadvantage. He was the one who took it upon himself to eliminate the nuisances, the aristocrats of this country and brought it to its current strength, and yet what did he get from it, names like The Tyrant, hate from his own people and lastly the constant fear of being assaulted or betrayed.

The Tyrant's face showed a sad and tired look as he continued his stroll through the city. What first gave him a sense of pride for what he had accomplished awakened now a sense of sorrow.