A young prince’s father dies and the boy must begin the rites of coronation. The wizard takes him to a sacred chamber filled with many books. Upon the dusty spines are written single words: “Baker.” “Farmhand.” “Swineherd.” “Beggar.” “Nobleman.” “Schoolteacher.” “Bodyguard.” “Princess.” “Pariah.” Words the boy has never seen before.
“Before your coronation, you must read each of these books, cover to cover,” the wizard explains.
“But the kingdom is without a ruler, and the coronation is tomorrow,” the boy protests. “I cannot read so many books in a year, let alone a single day!”
The wizard smiles.
“To read each book will take a lifetime,” he says. “But to your kingdom, your time spent in here will be but an afternoon. A king must provide for his subjects, but to provide, he must understand their lives.”
He gestures to the towering shelves. “Who will you become first?”
The boy’s eyes scan the shelves, settle upon a gold-etched spine that matches their blue tone. “Sailor,” he says.
The wizard’s crooked fingers pry the book from its place, turn it so the boy can see the dark silhouette of a ship upon the waterstained cover. When the boy takes the book, it feels damp in his hands, and he can almost smell the sea. With trembling hands he opens the cover, but before he can read a single word, he realizes that his hand is resting on a wooden railing, and if he does not tighten his hold the next wave will throw him into the sea.
