The Tailor of Stories

Once there was a tailor, and he was famous throughout the land as he wove the finest fabrics to make magnificent garments for kings and emperors.

One king set out to find the tailor’s secret. He travelled far and wide until he saw a forest with strange lights glowing in the centre. He entered the forest and found himself in a fairy glen, bedecked with fireflies and will-o-the-wisps.

In the centre of the glen was the famous tailor, and he listened to the fairy’s stories. As he listened, gossamer threads appeared in the air between them, which he skilfully wove into a fabric. The king was about to leave, glad he had discovered the secret at last, when he stepped on a twig, and the fairies stopped their tales, and the tailor stopped his weaving, and they all turned to look at the king.
The tailor invited him into the glen.

“It is time to weave your story into the fabric, you have found my tapestry of words, you must add your own”.

The king sat down and recounted his adventures, and as he spoke, the tailor took the very words from the air, and span them into shimmering threads, then wove them into as fine a fabric as you have ever seen.

When the king had finished speaking, the tailor sewed the fabric into a cloak, then handed a needle and some scissors to the king.

The king was surprised, and asked why he had been given such fine gifts.

“It is the curse of the story weaver to carry the needle until such a time as he can weave a cloak from the life of another. I have woven your life into my cloak, and shall wear it henceforth. I wear your life and it is mine.”

The truth dawned on the king “but what will I do without my life?”

The tailor had put the cloak on, and looked just like the king now “I have been where you are now, and my advice to you is to do the very best story weaving you can, for once you have woven the finest stories you will ignite the curiosity of one who will tell you theirs, and perhaps one day we shall meet at my palace.”

The old king replied “you mean my palace!”, but found himself alone, save for the needle and scissors. He set out to search for stories to weave, a long journey, and the hope of redemption.

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