Claiming the Throne

     A lone man sits in a room. His knee bounces, his breaths suck the air out the room, and you could almost see his rapid heartbeat. The sound of the outside chattering leaks into the room he sits in. A woman opens the flap, letting in more of the sounds. "It's time," she simply states. His bouncing knee slows with his heart rate and breath as he transmutes the anxious energy. With each slowing breath, he becomes more still, more regal. He soon transforms becoming unrecognizable from his previous state. He looks at the woman and she nods before exiting. He stands, seemingly filling the room.

    He then exits and stands between two guards outside of his room. He continues and they follow behind. His head is held high and his gaze is never averted from the path in front of him. He comes to massive doors standing between him and what is meant to be his. The source of the chatter is on the other side of these doors, dozens of people talking of the events. 

    The guards open it for the man and as they do, the chatter lowers to whispers. The guards stand by the doors as the man continues on his path. Dozens of people on both sides of the aisle stare at the man. Some with awe, some with hope, and others with wonder. Wondering how this boy will shape the future. Ahead of the man was a throne with his most trusted at its sides and one behind holding a shining crown, reminiscent of a halo. He ascends the steps before the throne and claims his seat. The one behind the throne places the crown on his head and the crowd goes silent. They wait for the words of their new king. They wait for what is about to unfold.