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For that reason, the kingdom often slept. What was there to look forward to with each passing day?

This is what King Helius pondered as his footsteps padded along a winding stone path.

He stopped to rest for a while beside a marble fountain. In a pleading voice, he asked the fog to

lift its web and the clouds to break their formation. Under the bright rays of a glowing sun,

everything would be better, he thought. But the garden remained still, quiet and cold.

The fresh smell of rain permeated the air. And as his breath grew longer and softer,

the old king gently closed his eyes. He imagined that his body was as light as a feather,

allowing him to fly towards the ashy sky. There, using his bare hands, he cleared out the rain clouds,

one by one. Slowly, the grave parted. When none of the clouds were left, he pictured himself

floating freely in a sea of blue. Right in the center of this endless sky was a bright and shining

sun, like a golden flower opening its petals. The most precious flower of all, Helius whispered in all.

Up close, the sun was even more beautiful. Its energy was magnetic. Its brightness

more alluring than all the treasures he had ever seen. Wampth traveled through his body

as the rays touched his skin. Unlike the damp clouds that hid the sky above,

the fiery sun made him smile and his heart sing. Filled with excitement, the kings stretched out his arms

toward it. The lightest touch would make him happy, Helius thought. As he extended his fingers,

a gust of wind ruffled his clothes. The touch of cold air brought him back to reality.

...