He was a mighty king, and he knew it. His effect was felt in all eight directions, throughout his kingdom.
It was his very existence that kept his subjects awake, alive and thriving, and the unique light which he shone was indispensable to the world–just as for each person who inhabits it.
Every morning, he blushed at his renewed duty to his subjects, and he felt himself the luckiest in the universe to have such an obligation. Truly, he was different from all others in this respect, as obligation was to him not a burden, but a joy, and he would rise with the crow of the cock to greet each morning with intensity and vigor.
Each day, when he reached the height of his majesty, he would begin to shrink back–little by little upon his throne–and the longing would begin. He longed for more time in the day, he longed for better conditions for his subjects, he longed for them to be happier with their days; but mostly, he longed for his queen, who had departed from him long ago.
Wished, had he, that she would stay, but she was blinded by his radiance. She felt, constantly, that she could never reach her full potential with a king so brilliant and loved, so late one night she left a note to her love.
“My dearest sweet and loving king,
Too long have I languished in your shadow.
I do not wish that you should bring
Upon me pain and sorrow for thou art great,
Noble and fair and I feel that with this ring
Have I at once given seal to my blessed fate,
But my dearest wish I ever to lovingly sing
Of the blessings which I shall surely rate
Within our life or without is all the same,
There are things that coupling cannot give
And wish I to hearken to mine own name
And in death of our union to truly live!”
What a horror he must be, thought the king, for his one truest love to wish to depart from him. How could he have been so blind to let it be unseen to his own eyes that within his life she could not live?
And so, every night from the point of the letter and onward, the king would die, and in the morning be reborn.
And every night from the point of his death, his queen would rule in his absence, her unique light spreading far and wide, and giving respite from the sun of the day, as well as well as a silvery glow in which the romantic could play.
A perfect arrangement it was not as shown, but to die as oneself for the sake of your love to live,
truly a greater love has never been known.