The King and his ten Children

Longer ago than anything else there was a man, a king who proclaimed himself as but a simple person, and he had ten children and one child, the last one he did not bear to see anymore.

Once upon a time he posed a question to each of the ten children and the eleventh that ran long ago to be with another king, one who bathed him in gold and praise, while he just showered him with silver and knowledge that many strive for, giving power to those who needed it and abolishing those in power who helped his eleventh who never truly was his from their positions to bring peace and abundance to all.

To each one of his heirs, those who would prolong his task of helping others, those who would take over as pillars of the kingdom, as helpers of all the people in all the worlds, he posed a question, a question of what gift they may wish to receive.

The first of the children he asked, the eldest daughter, bored but patient, wished for a source of light to lead others through the darkness, be it the deep forest or a time in their lives, so she was given a lantern that glowed brighter than any other.

The second of the children he asked, the youngest son, narcissistic but intent on changing himself, hoping to become something more, an empath who would understand all, asked for a few silver coins, small and unimportant, so he could walk around, dressed in normal clothes, eating normal food, living a normal live without being praised, so he may understand others and better himself, so he was given a few silver coins as well as being tutored as a baker and quickly finding a job where he learned humility.

The third one of the children, uninterested in the people of the future and the present, loved archaeology and relics of the past, long forgotten species and people, symbols of our history never to be seen again, hidden deep in the nothing ,asked for nothing more than a brush to free the ancient relics from the dust they were covered in, and they were given that, walking away with a simple brush and a smile on their face as they looked forward to finding that which happened in the past and uncovering it, however long ago it may have been.

The fourth one he asked was rarely to be seen, stuck in her own room and loving to read, she asked to be made an archivist of the kingdoms truth, and so she was given the books and keys to the truth she searched for her whole live, intent on helping others uncover, such as her sibling who searched through dirt and rocks to uncover a past that might now be reduced to dust.

The fifth asked for a game to be played by the king, not one of strategy but of fun, one they made themselves, to bring happiness and change to the emotions of many and give them choices, be it only within the game, choices they may not have in real life, a second life if one may, so they asked the king to play as a normal person, and the king loved the game, he was a simple farmer, and as he loved it, the people played with him, and the child was happy and proud, watching everyone choose for themselves, be it only within their own mind and games.

The sixth child, lazy and full of strive she'd never want to achieve, wished for nothing more than a bed, for she was scared she would just cause chaos and dismay, something the king sighed at, something he dismissed as false, and he gave her a bed, many beds, he gave her a home, a home in which many could sleep, many that had lost their homes, and she wished for them to stay and be happy, and she had found something she could do from her own bed, a smile on her face.

The seventh child, one who despised learning, wanted nothing more than a seventeen-sided dice she could role, and one of every number to a hundred, for she loved chances and the random, for she despised that which was for sure, she hated those born with power and she wanted to be poor, for she wanted equal chances for all, and she gave money away using those dices, she gave chances to equals using those dices whenever she could, something most disliked, but perhaps that was the fairest way to go about it.

The eight child loved all that was different, so he wore weird clothes and wanted for nothing more than people to get access to turn their own wishes into a reality, he wished for the king to give the people countless shops to write, to draw, to paint on walls, and he, just like everyone else, loved it and the king laughed at the many creations that the people made, many of which indeed supposed to make him laugh, his favourite kind of creativity, those that wished to have fun, and the child loved it more than anything else.

The ninth child, one that wished to be neither male nor female but something else, wished for things that were related to make sense, they wished to be taught by everyone to understand, not just the wise, but the foolish, not just the sane, but the insane, they wished to make themselves the full picture, and while the king understood, that was difficult, so they had to wait and research on their own until they came from far away and taught them what they believed to be true, culminating in them believing all that was true and understanding all as false.

The tenth child did not show themselves, no, they hid away, they yearned for nothing, and they used nothing, barely eating, barely being, researching magic all her live for she believed that to be all she yearned for and she was given nothing as she wished.

The eleventh child, one who was not of the king but claimed to be, stole nothing, was given nothing, but he claimed to have been gifted a crown he claimed to steal in private, though only the other king, young and foolish, gave him something.

The story told by many, children and old ones alike, lied and belittled, forgotten and besmirched, carved and painted, spread across countless worlds, was forgotten for long, changed hundreds of times over, genders mixed, names erased by jealous people, suffering removed, goals perhaps even changed, but they remained the same at core, a story to tell that there were many goals one could not see, and even more ways to achieve them than one could imagine.