The robed man walked forward. 19 years of toil and work had led up to today, and this was just the beginning. The crowning ceremony was just a formality, of course; and not entirely truthful at that, considering his future role. 19 years had been spent doing something he hated above all else; "raising" their future king to maturity. Though the process was irritating, like all young children, the easily impressionable nature of youth was free to be shaped by a sculptor. The sculpting clay now set and cooked into an unshakeable conviction, the robed man lowered the crown down upon the boy's head. It pained him, to see such scum wearing a sign of royalty. Pawns should be pawns, not kings. Nevertheless, it was a necessary step. And before long, the rightful king would be wearing that crown... No! A better crown! A crown borne of the tears of its subjects
! Oh, and borne of cobalt
makes it a pretty color. Gold
is so soft and overrated. He would have to find a way to properly sculpt a crown out of cobalt
once this was all done. It would be harder than sculpting the boy, and his hands would probably get all icky
from it, but it would be so cool, you know? They'd all be like "Hey, it's the Cobalt
King! Let's bow before him and his cobalt
crown of awesomeness!"
The robed man smirked, and the ceremony was complete. The board was set up, and it was time to play with the pieces.