"Starboard, ten degrees!"
The King breathed in the fresh air of the blessed islands as the trade winds whipped up the banners of his flagship into a frenzy. It spiritually rejuvenated him to return to these islands, his sovereign kingdom, his mighty people. He felt as if the mighty rock of Diamond Head was slowly approaching his ship, and its beauty and majesty was a humbling reminder that God, and not himself, was the true Father of his people. He frowned. The True People would only hold dominion over these islands so long as they could hold them.
As his flagship docked, and he descended the steps surrounded by his elite royal knights, two entire royal regiments on either side of his walk came to attention. Their wide-brimmed white helms sparkled in the morning sunlight, each topped by a steel spear-point matching the shining bayonets they held upright, and their crisp blue uniforms formed a vast sea of discipline and order, holding back the forces of chaos and decay. They were the finest of his people, the clean-cut Soldiers of God and Nation.
Beyond the ranks of the Nation's Finest, mingling with the sounds of the sea and the shouts of sergeants, his precious people awaited him, joyous to see their King returning in health and victory from the latest negotiations with the foreigners. At the end of the vast lines of soldiers, their commander saluted the King and offered him and his knights their horses which they would ride directly to Iolani Palace. As the King and his knights rode he thought about the challenges the Kingdom was facing abroad.
Though these islands might already be besieged by foreign degeneration and the ravages of capitalism, the King thought to himself, within this Kingdom remains the old chivalry and honor... for a little while longer.