On the day of the coronation, the crowd watched, astonished, as the crown practically leapt off of the head of the new king, Rei Keemster.
"Who is this... lost creature?" it had remarked. "And why is he my king?"
It then grew two legs, and much to the crowds' amusement and Keemster's annoyance, took off towards the lake with the intention of drowning itself. Cursing, the uncrowned king took off after it, chasing the crown in a game of cat and mouse while the spectators howled and convulsed with uproarious laughter.
That evening, the king lashed out against the crown, enraged by the humiliation he endured earlier. Grabbing hold of the glass crown, he hurled it at the palace floors with all his strenght. However, instead of shattering, the crown had merely bounced around, then wobbled to a halt. The crown had mocked him for this performance, and called him a "feeble loser."
The king never had much respect from the general public, but the small amount he did have was ripped from him that day, like a flower being uprooted from the ground. He was known as the 'feeble one' from that day on.
Seeing how unpopular he was, and how much of a joke everyone saw him as, Keemsterdecided that resignation was the way to go. However, this was not possible. King Rei Keemster had five guardsmen, and to the majority of them, nobody was more suitable for the role than the almighty Rei himself.
"Singh." Rei intoned. "Let me step down. I beg you."
"Oh, no!" the large man looked at Rei, and cracked a ruffian grin. "Without you, who would lead the nation?" The others nodded in agreement.
"I don't know! Why don't you just grab some random person off the streets and crown him King? Chances are, he'd be a better king than me!"
Singh knelt down, and his massive pot-belley swayed with him. "We both know that isn't true." he said. "You can count on us anytime you're in trouble!"
"But counting on you is arguably a very low intelligence decision!" protested the king. "You guys are all weirdos!"
And indeed they were. Singh wasn't too bad on the weirdo-meter. A large, rotund man, if his gargantuan belly was ignored, he could be considered an average demon. In Rei's books, he only placed a 4. But his other guards all easily scored a 10. And it was quite obvious why Rei thought this way.
Amitan was a massive man. His seven foot, steroid fueled figure dwarfed over most. And his powerful, nigh indestructable masses of muscles made even the most seasoned soilder cower in submission. He was so testosterone driven that even the gods themselves respected his presence. However, the problem was that he saw himself as a K-pop idol, and usually donned a frilly pink dress along with high heels and a bow. Keemster was not sure why, but somehow his outfit scared him even more than his physique. This was the man Keemster steered clear of the most.
Sean and Oliver were brothers, and they both wore ridiculous full body-spandex suits of multiple colours that hugged thier figure tightly and showed off thier "fine bodies". They claimed that it helped them in thier movement, so that if an intruder threatened the young king, they would easily be able to respond to the danger, but Keemster secretly suspected that they were just perverts. Either way, they made him extremely uncomfortable, and Keemster liked to avoid eye-contact when speaking to them.
Keemster nodded at them. "Dismissed." he barked. In a blur, the four guardsmen dissipated, each choosing a ventage point where they could spring into action if need be. Rei was once again unattended. He grunted, satisfied. The sooner he was alone by himself the better; Rei Keemster despised social interaction, and he made sure people knew. Muttering to himself about how much his life sucked, he stalked back towards his bedroom.
Behind him, once out of sight, Singh smiled to himself. The young master was weak. He was pathetic. Singh wasn't delusional enough to think otherwise, and he would bet the same that the others had similar thoughts. However, despite that, he was still thier king, and he still was a descendant of the legendary Adriano. Singh understood that he bore no resembelance to his old friend, but for some reason, inside Rei, Singh could feel a shard, a slimmer of king Adriano. Singh knew it was foolish to get his hopes up. Even so, he would still try his hardest to transform him into a king his father would be proud of. Singh lived by this oath, and he would be dammed if he failed, even if it killed him.
Yes, there was still hope left for the king. In his heart, he knew that much.