Royal, In Blame Only

Once, the crown prince of the land was walking in the grasslands when he happened to be ensnared by a series of horrid thorns. Just when he was about to give up, a heavy crack of the thorns was heard; and to his surprise, he came upon a creature whose head was entirely made of an oddly colored gold.

“You have saved me... Thank you. You are a friend to the kingdom.” He said, and the creature seemed to gently beam with some kind of joy. “Of course,” It said, slightly bowing its head. “I cannot sit idly as a person is in need.”

“I wish to reward you.” Said the prince, slowly standing up. “Come with me to my kingdom, to my castle. My subjects will herald you as a savior, kind creature.”

“I do enjoy these grasslands..” pondered the creature. “Would I be of much help to your people, even?”

The prince thought for a second. “...Why, yes indeed. Is it possible to perhaps have some of the gold from your head?”

"Yes," the creature said, voice soft and kindly. "But no more than a single coin. It is quite an effort for me to grow such metals. All you need to do is gently break off some from my horn. That is it.”

The prince agreed.

“You may have some right now, if you wish,” Said the creature, bowing down its head.

The prince took a coin’s worth of gold.

The prince’s father had died, and he had recently become the king, and he had promoted the creature to be his adviser.

“I know nothing of your politics,” Said the creature, seemingly confused. “I cannot help you as much as a more qualified person could.”

“Nonsense,” said the new king. “Your head funds our kingdom, as people seek out your strange colored gold! I do not need the advice of others, for I know I can lead our kingdom into a glorious new age. All I need is to have you nearby, friend.”

“That sounds nice.” spoke the creature, closing its golden eyes.

“...Might I have a sliver of gold?” asked the king, and the creature nodded, softly.

The king whittled off two coins worth of gold.

It had been several years until the king's soldiers had marched out of the great gates when the king promoted the creature to a duke.

"I do not foresee this going well." The creature remarked, watching the metal swords gleam up into the air as the young soldiers boots clacked against the wooden gate’s floors.

"Nonsense!" laughed the king, "for the riches of this kingdom conquered shall make up much more than this war will cost! And then I may not even need your golden head then! I shall be the mightiest man to walk upon this earth!"

The creature dipped its head down, seemingly ruminating over this. "I.. Do not think so.”

“Do you doubt me?” Balked the king, suddenly standing up. The creature quickly shook its head. “...I am sorry. I trust in your judgement."

"...Good.” Huffed the king, sitting back down again. “Speaking of your golden head, may I have a sliver, old friend?.." The king said, glancing over to the creature. “I sense your hesitation. Do not be selfish.”

"..Of course," Said the creature, bowing down its head.

The king had whittled off a small chunk.

The kingdom's great walls had fallen, and the smell of smoke lingered up above. "My old friend," said the king, his hair matted and full of grime, eyes a grim reflection of who the creature once knew. "We are in dire need of funding, the people are suffering, and your head could pay for our entire kingdom. You cannot be selfish right now. I need more than a coin."

The creature shook its head. "I cannot give you that." It shuddered, backing away.

"Yes, you can," hissed the king, charging at the creature. Scared, it ran out to the balcony, of where a flood of angry voices screeched out for the blood of the king, twisting harder and louder as he had arrived.

“You have wronged us! Killed us!” Roared the crowd. “You have destroyed our kingdom!” Torches and smoke burned in the deep of the night, alighting the castle wall with an ugly red.

"My subjects!" croaked the king, twisted face lit by the flames, "Do not blame your king, for do you not see the true culprit!” Screeched the king, arms clawed in the direction of the creature. “This disgusting demon, who has snuck up the ranks and poisoned our kingdom! It is what has caused us all to go into ruin!"

The creature tried to protest this lie. But its soft voice could not talk over the fire of the mob, which was louder than it had ever heard before. It knew it could not defend itself, and so instead, it ran, ran far, so far that it had reached the grasslands, where nobody continued to chase it, for they had exiled the evil creature that had tormented their kingdom.

Satisfied, they all walked back, for they knew that they had done the right thing.

...And the creature, scorned and hated, disappeared deep into the great bushel of thorns once again, never to enter those lands again.