Long ago, when the world was young and the gods still walked amongst us there was a glorious king, much beloved by his family and subjects alike. His name was King Torvald and under his tenure he had dramatically increased the size and wealth of his kingdom. He was known by all to be a friendly and generous soul. It did not take long before his people began to refer to him as “the great”, because of his numerous exploits and towering intellect. He did nothing to dissuade this, for while he was kind in both his demeanor and actions he was also, in private, quite the proud sort.
One evening, many years into Torvald’s reign, as he was entering his twilight years, a mysterious traveler entered the court, and spoke stories of lands far away and the wonders that distant kingdoms held. The entire court listened in awe to the strangers extravagant tales, as did King Torvald, but in his heart he felt the bitterness of envy. His many sons crowded the stranger, listening intently and offering many questions. It was at that moment that Torvald vowed to live up to the moniker that he had earned “the Great” and to never again be held second to anyone, god or man. Later that night as the wanderer was leaving town to move on to his next destination King Torvald quietly had him arrested and killed. It is said that at that very moment a torrential downpour of rain began across the kingdom as the gods above wept, for two good men had just died, one a wanderer, the other a king.
The very next day King Torvald ordered numerous construction projects across his domain, bent on proving the wealth of the kingdoms in the traveler’s exaggerated tales inferior to his own. To afford them he exorbitantly raised the taxes on his subjects and in the following seasons many of his poorer denizens starved because of this. After six years and several unsuccessful peasant uprisings a majority of King Torvald’s building projects were finished. Still not satisfied with his status, he deigned to take three additional wives, so all knew who reigned supreme in his kingdom. When Queen Elinor, the king’s wife of thirty years and the mother of all his sons found out, attended his three wedding ceremonies and drank poison, dying at the king’s feet.
It was after this that King Torvald determined that no earthly man could now claim to be his equal, but still was not content. Still he desired more. He seeked to draw envy from the very gods themselves. With his sons behind him, he lead his army on numerous campaigns in every direction, conquering formerly friendly neighbors underfoot as easily as one takes candy from a child. In the following month he lost two sons in battle against his foes and the remainder began a bloody civil war for the crown that he still held. King Torvald himself had become grievously ill and all knew he would surely die. The gods looked down from the heavens and saw the suffering that the king’s ambition had reaped and he lost all their favor. They struck him harshly yet in the most just way possible for at that moment on his deathbed they brought the king to his senses. He looked about him and wept.
Let all that hear this tale know that a man’s ambition may lead him to greatness, but he is always within a step of losing the gods’ favor. Treat those around you with kindness and respect, for no man is truly superior to another in the eyes of those above.
