The Sword In The Ice
The night the king died, a sword appeared in the ice.
To be fair, the ice appeared all on its own as well. It was a frigid kingdom and the streets often filled with snow, but no one had ever seen a mountain of ice like that form overnight, especially not in the middle of the square. The ice reached fifteen feet in the air with only jagged ledges to help someone climb up the side.
And climb up the side they did, because at the top was a shining sword, only its hilt peeking out of the frozen peak.
The message of the sword in the ice spread throughout the kingdom: it was impossible to remove, it was too heavy to shift, and most astoundingly: it was decreed that whoever could pull the sword out would become the ruler of the kingdom.
Hundreds of people from across the kingdom traveled to the city square to try it. Some looked at it and thought “it’s a feat of strength. Only the strongest man in the kingdom will be able to take it, and lead us.”
Others looks at it and thought “it’s clearly enchanted. Only he who is pure of heart can remove it, because only he is worthy of the kingdom.”
She looked at it and thought “I need a chisel.”
The next morning the villagers awoke to find a young woman sitting on a twelve-foot mountain of ice, holding a glittering sword in one hand and a well-used chisel in the other.
“So, do I get a crown?” she asked.