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Even before there was a whirl of wind, a flame of fire, a drop of water or a seed of life, there was the Throne.

No one saw it, until it wanted itself to be seen. No one knew about it, until it wanted itself to be known. No one won it, unless it deemed itself worthy to be won.

The Throne only gave what one was ready to give it back.

A curious kind farmer, who cured the ill and the old of his village at night, and bred chickens for bread and butter in the daylight, set out in the search of the mythical Throne with his eleven good friends.

The village up next was a place of drought and famine. The farmer watched his eleven hungry friends fight for food and water amongst themselves. He fought too. Four died. Eight remained.

Someone was watching them.

Marching to the next village, which was said to be a land of beasts, the eight friends wielded their scanty weapons in vain. Four more died. The farmer advised them to befriend the beasts and so thereby, on they rode to the next village, merry and winged. Four remained.

Something was watching them.

In the last village, the group of four, patted their beasts, and let them free with a grateful farewell. And thunder cackled, fire ignited, earth shattered, and water flooded.

Three of the friends panicked. It was a test of wits. But the clever farmer advised them to each handle one calamity. And so, they all did.

The Throne was watching them.

One wielded Fire. One wielded Water. One wielded Earth. One wielded Air.

The chaos stopped.

But the world went dark, black as a night. The farmer bowed in reverence to the darkness, and in the blink of an eye, light came forth, bright as a day.

The Throne arrived.

It shone in colors of beautiful yet terrifying magic and bestowed the farmer all its essence, all the four elements of life.

The farmer sat on the Throne, and changed the world one day at a time.

- Unknown Author

(A story from a popular children's book in The Four Realms)

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