King Amor planted the seed in a pleasaunce of its own.  It grew into the most beautiful blue flower the world had ever known.  It was of a blue so pure and exquisitely intense that it was rapture to look at it.  Its blossoms hung from a tall stem and in its first year it gave a thousand seeds.  Each year Amor planted more flowers and each year they grew taller and more wonderful and blossomed a longer time.  When the summer wind blew it shook out clouds of delicate fragrance which sometimes floated down the mountain until the wretched dwellers in King Mordreth’s land forgot their quarrels and misery and even lifted their heavy heads to inhale it and ask each other what was being done upon the mountain.  Each year King Amor gathered the seeds and stored them in an unused tower of his castle.

Taller and stronger he grew and each day wiser and more beautiful.  Each plant, each weed, each four-footed thing, each wind, each star of heaven taught him its wonders and its wisdom.  His eyes were so marvelous in their straight-glanced splendor that when he looked at a man they seemed to read his soul and command its truth to answer him.  He was so powerful that he could break an iron bar in two pieces with his hands.

When he was twenty years old the Ancient One took him up on the battlements, and giving him a strong glass told him to look down upon the capital city on the plain and see what was being done there.

“I see many people gathered in crowds,” Amor said, when he had looked for a few moments.  “I see bright colors and waving pennants and triumphal arches.  It is as if some great ceremony were being prepared for.”

“The people are making ready for your coronation,” said the Ancient One.  “To-morrow you will be led in state down the mountain and acclaimed King.  It was to fit you to reign over your kingdom that I taught you to know all the wonders of the world and have shown you that no thing is useless but folly and dishonoring thought.  That which you have learned from your brothers here you go down the mountain to teach your brothers there.  You will see things which are not beautiful and those which are unclean, but hold high your head when you walk, young King, and never forget the sun, the wind, and the stars.”

To himself as he looked on him the Ancient One said:  “When he stands before them they will think he is a young god.”

The next morning a splendid procession wound its glittering way up the mountain road to the castle.  There were princes and nobles and chieftains.  Rich colors glowed in their attire and gorgeous banners and pennants waved over them, while music from gold and silver trumpets accompanied them as they rode and their many followers marched behind.

The Ancient One in his long robe of gray stood by King Amor on the broad stone terrace guarded by its crouching carved lions.

“This is your King, O people!” he said.