The Cost of Crowns By Konner Elmore
Once upon a time in a great Northern city, lived a mighty king and the world’s greatest woodworker. The king’s domain spread across the land, thanks to the mighty ships that the woodworker designed for him. Pleased with his work, the king summoned the woodworker to his throne. He said, “Thou hast done this kingdom a great service, simply name your desire, and it will be yours.” The woodworker smiled and shook his head. “I desire nothing, my king. I have my home, my health, and my family. That is all I need.” The king was angered by this rejection. If he truly desired nothing, then the king would take away his contentment. Discreetly, he ordered his men to dress as brigands and burn the woodworker’s house to the ground. The king summoned him the next day, and the woodworker brought an ornate wooden chest, covered in jewels. The king was pleased and said, “Thou hast done this kingdom a great service. I heard your home was destroyed, surely now thou desire my charity?” Now homeless, the woodworker smiled and shook his head. “I desire nothing, my king. I have my health and my family. That is all I need.” The king, now wrathful, ordered the bodies of enemy soldiers to be thrown into the woodworkers’ well. He soon became sickly and weak. When he was next summoned to the king, the woodworker brought a 10ft wooden statue of the king in his battle armor, the enemy’s head swinging from his hand. The king was pleased and said, “Thou hast done this kingdom a great service. Your home is gone, and your vigor is fading. What wouldst thou desire of me?” Now homeless and sickly, the woodworker smiled and shook his head. “I desire nothing, my king. I have my family. That is all I need.” The king became enraged. No longer caring about his discrepancy, he ordered his men to round up the woodworker’s wife and children. The children’s heads were put on a spike, with the wife’s skin waving like a flag attached. The woodworker was summoned once again to the king. This time he brought a wooden, gold-accented crown and his mallet in his hand. The king was pleased and said, “Thou hast done this kingdom a great service. Your home is gone, your vigor is fading, and your family lies dead. What wouldst thou desire of me?” Now homeless, sickly, and without a family, the woodworker smiled and shook his head as he went to place the crown upon the king. Only then, the king noticed too late the barbs embedded in the crown’s temple. The woodworker brought the crown down on the king’s head, the barbs serrating his skin as he cried in pain. “I desire nothing, my king. I have my sorrow.” He brought the mallet down against the crown, further embedding the wooden crest. His eyebrows began to split from his face. “I have my pain.” The mallet crashed down again, the king’s eyes now hidden by a veil of crimson. “And most importantly, I have your suffering.” The mallet made a final descent with a sickening crack, as the king’s skull popped akin to a knuckle.
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