It was a whisper that started it all.
The word was so soft that the King didn’t hear it until it became more than a whisper. It became talk. It became an idea. Next, it would become reality.
The King retreated into his castle, throwing out anyone who breathed or thought the word. It spread like a disease throughout the castle, contaminating lords, ladies, servants, bakers, stable boys. After a time, only the King’s family was left. They had to learn how to make their own beds and bake their own bread. The castle was completely, utterly silent. If it was silent, then the word could not be spoken.
But one day, the silence was broken.
The people came in droves, bearing their weapons and making their way across the drawbridge. They shouted, but the King found the deepest, darkest place to hide so he wouldn’t have to hear what they said.
And yet, the word still found him. The people invaded the castle and filled its halls like ants swarming in an anthill. Finally, they found the bolted door where the King was hidden, and it was there that the word finally defeated the King as the people beat on the door and cried: “Revolution!”