King Kormwind, not the elderly man living a quiet life with his beloved wife far from the cities and quite glad to be away from the throne, but the younger king, was having trouble laughing. So while in town, some kids, human, hellkin, and others, decided to try to get him to come play tag and other games with them for a while. -- Anon Guest
When Kormwind the Ninth, the Thrice-Sworn King, took the Demon's Diadem, it had a rod of lead as part of its making. Once he learned of the presence of the demon corpse in his mountain, he used some of its bones as a new weight. Infernal Iron, the demon's bones, was so much heavier than mere lead.
Heavy, indeed, was the head that wore that crown.
King Kormwind the Tenth, known to his friends and family as Dex, felt like the weight of responsibility was going to squash him flat. He had no idea how Dad managed to wear the Diadem for every hour he was administrating this chaos known as a kingdom. The weight of the crown was relatively small when compared to the weight of responsibility.
No wonder Dad never wanted to be a king.
The subjects of Whitekeep numbered too high for Dex to count. Almost too high for him to contemplate. Dad said that, the instant he began to think of them as mere numbers, that was the slippery slope towards evil.
Evil begins with treating people as things. Numbers count to that.
He could not rely on statistics to tell him whether or not his policies were doing good work. He had the Lutemen for that. Told to seek out cracks in the system and those who had fallen into them. Those who the systems of help managed to miss.
When they reported no results, he could feel a little more secure.
But... not happy.
A paper crane hit him on the forehead. A magical message... from Dad.
Remember - take some sunshine time and do nothing special. Touch grass. Breathe fresh air. Use my wilderness. Play games. All work and... you know.
He'd signed it with his K that had a spaded tail, and put a heart in the chevron.
So Dex took his heavy head out of his office. Out of the castle. Just to stroll around the streets of the capital. Almost lost in his musings. Until an errant kickball flew at his head.
A lifetime of training in the Art of Shadows had him reflexively sending it back the way it came. Where a cluster of kids playing in the courtyard, hooted at the display.
"Do it again," cheered the kid keeping the goal. Punting the ball to him.
It didn't matter to them that he was the king. It didn't matter to them that he had a crown or an expensive suit on. He'd just done something spectacular, and they wanted to see it again.
No wonder Dad stole an hour or two every day to play with the kids in the castle.
It sort of lead to his subconscious philosophy. Important people were too busy to spend time on their children, but the most important people made time for their children. Dad had also made time for any child in his aura, be it his own or any of the foundlings left in the castle's care, or children of the castle staff.
As Dex joined in with the game, his smile returned to his face. He could understand, at last, why Dad spent so much time with any child within his aura.
They were way more fun than paperwork.
[Photo by Andrew Charney on Unsplash]
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