Once upon a time there was a queen and a king who were very kind. All of their kingdom loved them, and when they had their baby boy, Magil, the queen and king’s loyal subjects loved him too. Magil, like his parents, was extremely sweet-natured. Spending his days chatting with the commoners and playing in the royal garden with the care-free manner most young boys have.

However, at the age of ten years old, something was already troubling Magil. Everyone in the kingdom had always told him he could accomplish anything, and until now he had believed them. With this in mind, he always imagined to one day grow up to become a wonderful writer. Millions of copies of his well-written books would be sold all over the world, and he would be forever known as, “King Magil, the Greatest Writer Who Ever Lived,”.

So why, we are wondering, would something be bothering little Magil? Well, Magil quickly realized he had no talent with a pen. He saw that his writings were not equal to, in fact much worse, than other boys his age.

“Why am I such a poor writer,” Magil thought sadly, “The one thing- the only thing I want to be good at?” It simply didn’t make sense.

As a result, a depressed Magil locked himself in his room for quite some time; writing story after story. Fantasies, Tragedies, Poetry, but he hated every one of them and eventually they became part of the growing stack of crumpled papers in the corner of his room.

Magil spent countless nights weeping over his seemingly hopeless dream. The queen and king were grew very worried. Magil had been moping in his room for far too long. So one day they tried to discuss this with him.

“Magil,” said the king, “Perhaps you should go outside and get some fresh air… Or anywhere besides this room.”

To his parents despair, he refused. He loved his parents very much, however, so he tried to appease them by making occasional trips to the Royal Library. On one of these trips to the library, something happened that would change Magil’s life forever.

Magil was sitting in a chair, a book in his hand, though he was not really reading it. He was lost in his own thoughts. So lost, in fact, he didn’t notice the old, somewhat plump and scruffy man appear from out of nowhere. When Magil finally did notice, he jumped slightly in his seat, but calmed quickly upon realizing it was just an old man.

“Why are you here?” asked Magil- and not unkindly.

“To be the bearer of bad news,” he replied. The man’s face was sad, as though he been such a bearer countless times, “Prince Magil, you will never be the writer you so desperately wish to be. It would benefit you to stop writing altogether, it is more realistic.” The old man was crying now, as if he didn’t want to believe the words were true any more than Magil, but he knew they were true- and had to be said.

“But I can learn!” protest Magil, but even as he said this he knew it was a fallacy. He too began to cry.

“I am so sorry,” said the old man. He then slowly began to evaporate from his toes all the way to head until Magil could see him no more.

Unfortunately, there is no happy ending for Prince Magil. He later became King Magil, who died sad and alone. Forever known as, “ King Magil- the Saddest King of All,”.