The Princess from Britain, and the Philologist who wrote the commonwealth's future



It is so that once, upon a full moon night, in the early days of industrialization - during the Golden Ages of peace: a valiant lord rode a horse to the top of a holy peak where God chose the lord and their houses to lead humanity into a Reflexive era.  The lord went on to reign successfully as King of one dominion, and Emperor in another - establishing a system which strove to be better for the humanity which it continues to serve diligently to the present.  
  Thus so it became, that in the 2020th year of Lord Christ's ascention into the Celestial Concourse on High, it was so that a new Ruler needed to be Chosen for the common wealth; and the choice belonged to God, and God alone, as was decreed by the covenents of Nicene in the Byzantine Ages of chronology.  The true records of succession have been passed along through the records kept in Akesia - which are no longer exclusively monitored by the gatekeepers of information in the years leading to 2020. 
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  In 2020, God alone - by God right to decree all things made to be unmade, and all things unmade to become so - breathed the command to herald the birth of a new era for humankind.  In that era, the Prince who wanted royalty the least became identified by God as the one most deserving wherewith to pioneer a successful, innovative crusade into the future as what seemed inevitable.
  One day, the first African Philologist weighed in on matters royal - and for it an assortment of blessings came reigning down on what was once but a starving and lowly journalist, who now stood as an equal lord face to face with a Majestic Princess Anne. 
"Princess, m'Lady, it is an honor," said the African Philologist.
"The honor is one returned in kind, young lord," said Princess Anne, triggering in the twenty-nine-year-old before her an euphoric wave of appreciation to the wisened Princess from the head institution for the empire the African philologist had ascended through to becoming acknowledged as a Lord by a bona fide princess. 

"There is a great deal of work to do, and very little time, Princess Anne: let us tarry no longer in disbelief at the existence of the other, and make haste towards realizing a world which is better than the one either one of us was born into," said the African Philologist.  Further to his bemusement, the princess took him by the hand and lead him into a room filled with screen. 
"This is the situation," said Princess Anne. "Too few people read, which means that they are emmitting low vibrational frequencies: too low for us to save a great many unless their vibrations should become raised, which is what we are hoping to do under extremely short notice, what with covid19 and the world having fallen to yoghurt for it all."
"How may I serve?" the African Philologist humbly enquired, already having formulated the plan to drive across Africa delivering literature door-to-door. 
"We have comic books, and you have the greatest business model I have seen in years, and I was wondering if you would appreciate and enjoy distributing these comic books to people so as to raise their vibrational enerergies towards allowing us to read them and save them from undue destruction?" said Princess Anne, pointing at screens displaying civil unrest, breakdown in parliamentary sessions, violent protests, blatant police corruption and cctv footage of bizarre phenomena such as teleportation, aliens eating humans and what the African philologist swore was a dragon nesting in a mystical forest with dinosaurs clearly living in relevant proximity.
"Is that a live feed to a dragon chilling with dinosaurs being dinosaurs around it?" asked the Philologist. 
"Yes," said Princess Anne. 



"Okay, you've twisted my arm, I'll do it, m'Lady."
"That's the spirit, young lord," Princess Anne chirped. She handed the African Philologist an envelope. 
"Everything you need is on the inside of this package," said Princess Anne. 
"Will opening this cost me anything I'd miss, m'Lady?" asked the African Philologist. 
"It depends on what a philologist could possibly miss," said Princess Anne, triggering fits of laughter in the African Philologist which enured all the way to the parking lot below.  He pressed the key, and a car unlocked itself nearby. 
"And so it was that I became the solution," said the African Philologist to himself as he gently drove off into applying the greatest world-saving plan in existence: distributing comic books where previously there had been none, dressed as an assortment of characters from the multiverse of literature. 
 

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