So it is said that men should seek fame, and live their life for glory.  But who among us can name the ancient and forgotten kings, the dragon-lords of myth?  They are etchings on stone and pottery, their names lost to time.  And what then of their lords and attendants, surely held in high status during their time?  We know nothing of them - they are lost to us, and it is as if they never existed. 
%p 
Empires grow and fall.  Vast armies perish for a nation, an ideal that itself must perish, too.  Before legend and time were the faerie folk, their last descendants still here, fading; the great stone ruins of the centre lands stand for something, but for what must always remain uncertain.  Peoples emerge, and are destroyed.  This happens impossibly slowly to us, and in an instant on the world's stage. 
%p 
So, fame is fleeting.  The greatest of us achieve it but briefly, a crowning that in the world's terms lasts but a day.  So seek not fame and its sick trappings.  The present, and your life therein, is all that is available to you.  Your family depends on you: your hardships are theirs, your triumphs, and they will share these with you.  How will you die?  It is not knowable.  Who will mourn you?  This can be said.
