I sat here pulling out the sword and accidentally lost a grip losing all of my progress. My hands shaking, my face flush with fear knowing I will have to once again begin no matter how pointless it may seem. I felt a wave of anger, sadness and disappointment all within a span of half a second, I have never felt such stress completing such a mundane task.
To me this was the only thing that truly mattered, if not for the sense of accomplishment, I wished to pull the sword out of pure spite. How dare such a beautifully ordained sword simply sit within a crummy rock, nay it will stay there no longer.

I readied my resolve, strengthened my mental fortitude and calmed my nerves. I began once more.

The sword slowly sprang loose. It now rest in my hands. I admire it's beauty but I quickly toss it to the side. I realize in this small moment of tranquility that the sword wasn't truly what I was after. All this time I simply wished to prove to myself that I could do it regardless of what others might say about my actions; regardless of how often they call me useless. Here I have proven my worth not only to the people I shall rule over but also to myself. I've developed a purer sense of self.

As I am deep in thought the royal affairs begin. I am paraded into the castle, knighted, married, and thrown off the balcony.

I realize.

I am King.