Lord Wesley's throne was carved out of both wood and the various lies he fed his subjects. He was gleeful in his delivery; they followed his every word not only because he was so skilled at deception, but because there was no authority higher than him.

Or so said Lord Wesley.

"I am an angel from the aether," he would say, throwing coin into the crowd. "I wear this mask even though my face is very terribly beautiful; for I would not wish for the womenfolk to become displeased with their own husbands should their eyes lay upon its splendor."

When the money lenders came for their taxes he would send out his favorite wives to placate them. "Why feast on gold, my brothers, when you may feast upon the flesh of a woman?" The money lenders always found themselves with lighter pockets, and were quickly shooed away while they were still dazed with pleasure.

When he was courting a new bride he would tell tales of untold glory; some of his loftier tales were made acceptable by his statements of "The mind of the woman being unable to grasp the depth of my bravery and my strength," and that only made them want the good Lord more; to unravel his secrets.

When the warlords of neighboring kingdoms sought Lord Wesley's land as they always had, his silver tongue darted around even their most stoic threats of war; he made promises upon promises to "Share my bounteous and beautiful hills with my foreign brothers," and quieted them with the gold he had never paid back. But he knew it would not last long.

Soon the violence increased, and the world bristled for war. But one day Lord Wesley disappeared; they found neither hide nor royal hair in his bed sheets, and it seemed as if he had been plucked from the meager soil of the earth and placed in the heavens which he claimed had given birth to him in the first place.

"Perhaps what he said was true," whispered the masses. "Perhaps he truly was an angel."
"I can feel his heavenly presence amongst us now," said the superstitious, and the rest followed suit in their worship of their lost ruler.

When he was still alive, the Lord's children had often asked him how he had achieved such a glorious status; he was no war hero, no diplomat, no leader. And he told them:

"Even a puny man may become great if his delusions are powerful enough. And that is where I have always had power, children; in my will. And one day, children, I will return to my celestial abode, above cloud and canyon, and from there, I will watch over you, keeping you safe from any harm. The warlords will dare not tamper with our lands--for who would raise arms up against an angel, a god, a legend?"

Outside of Lord Wesley's window was a thick rope that his body was hanging from. There was a crooked smile upon his face, one that took solace in knowing that his one last lie was one that would not be soon forgotten.

* * *

_{Original Pencil Drawing}