Long ago, a young prince found himself wandering in a forest of majestic oaks and gnarled pines, which blanketed mountain after mountain, as far as the eye could see. He found peace in the solitude of the forests. As he wandered, he heard not another human voice. Instead, he listened to the whisperings of benevolent spirits all about him in the trees.
The prince, a younger son of a great king, decided to make the forests of the whispering spirits his home. Their soft, musical voices soothed his battle-scarred soul, slowly healing him. Having made this decision, he began to seek just the right place to put up a cottage he could call home.
In time, the prince found himself in the very center of the vast forest. He had climbed many mountains, seeking his new home. He had explored many valleys. Finally, one evening, he found himself atop the highest mountain near about. He looked out over the valleys which spread out all around the mountain, and saw the forest awash with the gold of the setting sun. A soft breeze carried the scents of the forest flowers to him as he listened to the whispering of the forest spirits. He knew at that moment that he was home.
The prince built a small cottage on top of his mountain. He settled into a simple, rustic life. Several seasons passed without him seeing a single person. Then, on an evening much like his first on the mountain, a small band of travellers stepped into the clearing before his cottage. The prince's soul was well healed and peaceful by now, and he welcomed the strangers to his home. They told him a tale of being displaced from their home when their village was destroyed in a war between two battle lords. In all, there were five women, nearly a score of children, three elderly men, and just two young warriors to protect them.
The strangers stayed on the prince's mountain. The men and boys helped him enlarge his cottage to a small hall, with space for each family and common kitchens and gathering rooms. The former villagers followed the prince's lead in nearly everything, sensing his nobility without knowing his past identity.
As the seasons passed, the children grew, and other bands of displaced villagers came to the prince's mountain. Young warriors who had seen enough of battle came there as well. All were comforted by the spirits who whispered among the trees whenever the wind blew. As more people came, they all worked together to add on to the simple hall, building a small fort, and then a larger castle, from the native stone. A small village grew up against the castle's walls. Some of the travellers had brought livestock with them, and seeds. They grazed the animals in the clearings scattered over the slopes of the mountain, and tilled the valley meadows to grow vegetables and grain. The people revered the prince, still not knowing who he was, and in time came to call him King. The king took a wife from among the young widows who came to him, and together they had a family of strong, healthy children.
As the children grew up, a few travelled forth from the mountain, carrying news of the new kingdom on its forested mountain. They spoke of the whispering spirits. Some settled in the far lands, but most returned, often bringing new families with them, as well as visitors who often chose to stay. Any who wondered about the new king ceased wondering when they met him, and knew the goodness in his heart as he led his people.
In the language of the distant lands that heard of the kingdom, a mountain which stood alone, as the new king's mountain did, was called a tor. The kingdom was often called the Tor of the Whispering Spirits. As time passed, and the king passed the leadership of his people to his eldest son. The king was buried under the oaks, his grave guarded by the whispering spirits. The new king was as caring of his people as his father had been before him. His son and grandson, as well, were wise, caring rulers in their turns. As time passed and the crown was handed from father to son, the Tor of the Whispering Spirits slowly came to be known simply as Whispering Tor.
Finally, the time came when the king of Whispering Tor grew old without having any children to come behind him. He was nearly ready to despair when a young prince came to his castle. The young warrior was through with battle, as indeed the king's own ancestor had been when he first came there. The prince told the aging king that he was a younger son, and so could not inherit his father's kingdom. He had fought in the service of the High King of the region, and had been promised his own kingdom for his service, but had refused to take any kingdom away from its rightful ruler.
The king considered the prince's words as the days passed. He thought of the younger man's honor, which kept him from accepting a kingdom from his patron. Finally, the king called the prince to him. He told the prince that he had no heir, and that he would like to treat the prince as his own son, and give him the Kingdom of Whispering Tor when the king's time was done. The prince was touched by the king's offer, and graciously accepted.
The prince lived in the castle as the king's own son. He learned the ways of the people, and loved them as much as they came to love him. When the king's days were ended, the people gladly acclaimed the prince as their new ruler. He was crowned King Luther Josephus, Ruler of Whispering Tor.
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