This is the story of king Nopar and his quest for truth. King Nopar was a sad man. People couldn’t figure out what was wrong with him. They tried everything from juices to perfumes to lavish vacations, but King Nopar kept his head down in public. He spent hours in his chambers by himself, thinking, contemplating, looking for advice, seeking spiritual guidance. He had no family. He had no tears.

The people refused to give up on their king. They chanted songs and threw parades in his name. They shouted his name in glee, wrote it on walls and gates.

The king was however, oblivious to all this. He kept a box of heirlooms hidden away beneath the castle. Once a week he would go visit them, to recount his happy days with his long lost cousin, Jason. Then one day an enemy arrived at the gate. This enemy was one thousand strong, fearless and frightening. King Nopar appeared at the castle entrance to make his statement. “Torch these pussy ass clowns”, said he, and he spat covid on their faces. One could hear the stretching of bows as the archers nocked their arrows into place. In response, the king twirled his cape and threw his underwear into the air. The head priest began chanting silently, the hymn of Darkness, his lips trembling with fear, as he erased his browsing history. To be continued…

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