A Lifeiscool Royale Fairytale

Once upon a time, in a land stitched together from glowing screens and whispering winds, there lived a gentle boy named Lifeiscool. Lifeiscool did not dream of castles made of gold, nor crowns sparkling with jewels. He did not wish to slay dragons or sail across stormy seas. No—his heart held only one simple wish. He wanted to play Royale. Royale was not merely a game in this kingdom. It was spoken of in hushed, excited voices, like a festival that appeared only once in a blue moon. Children who entered Royale returned with shining eyes and stories of teamwork, laughter, and daring victories. To Lifeiscool, it sounded like pure magic. Every morning he would wake before the sun, sit by his window, and imagine the day he would finally step into Royale’s bright, cheering world. But in that same land lurked a shadow. High upon a crooked hill, where the grass grew thin and the clouds looked tired, lived the Big Bad Wolf named Sin. Unlike the wolves of old tales, Sin did not huff or puff or chase villagers through forests. Sin’s power was quieter—and far more frustrating. Sin controlled the Enrollment Raffle. You see, the gates to Royale could not be opened by knocking, nor by kindness, nor even by patience. One’s name had to be drawn from the silver raffle drum kept in the center of the kingdom. Only then could a child enter. Lifeiscool waited faithfully. He polished his hope like a small lantern. He whispered, “Maybe tomorrow.” He smiled even when others grew tired of waiting. But one gloomy morning, the wind carried troubling news through the streets: “The raffle is gone!” “No drawing this year!” “Sin has decided—the first fifty may enter, and no more!” The kingdom stirred in confusion. Children ran as fast as sparrows in flight. Some arrived early enough to pass the gates. Many did not. Lifeiscool, who had believed in patience more than speed, arrived just moments too late. The gates closed. The laughter inside Royale rang like distant bells—beautiful, but unreachable. For the first time, Lifeiscool felt something heavy press against his heart. Not anger like thunder, nor sadness like rain… but a quiet wondering. Why must kindness wait, he thought, when rushing is rewarded? He walked slowly to the crooked hill where Sin lived. The path was steep, and pebbles slid beneath his feet, yet he climbed all the same. At the top, the Big Bad Wolf lay curled beside the silent raffle drum, its silver surface dull with dust. Sin opened one golden eye. “Why have you come, little dreamer?” the wolf asked. Lifeiscool trembled—but only a little. “I came,” he said softly, “because I wished to understand.” The wolf’s tail flicked. No one had ever climbed the hill just to understand. “Is Royale not meant for joy?” Lifeiscool continued. “And is joy not meant to be shared fairly?” The wind hushed. Even the clouds seemed to listen. Sin gave a low sigh, the kind that sounded older than mountains. “Long ago,” said the wolf, “the raffle was fair. But fairness is slow, and the world grew impatient. They asked for speed. So I gave them speed.” Lifeiscool thought about this. Then he did something no hero in the old stories had done. He sat down beside the wolf. They watched the kingdom together—the running children, the closed gates, the quiet disappointment drifting like mist. After a long silence, Lifeiscool spoke again. “Speed fills the gates,” he said, “but fairness fills the heart.” Something in those words slipped past Sin’s fur and settled somewhere deep. The wolf looked at the dusty raffle drum… and for the first time in many years, felt ashamed. Slowly—very slowly—Sin stood. With one careful paw, the wolf rolled the silver drum back to the center of the hill. The dust lifted into the sunlight like tiny stars waking from sleep. “Tomorrow,” said Sin, voice softer than before, “we draw names again.” Lifeiscool’s eyes widened—not with victory, but with quiet gratitude. And so the next morning, the kingdom gathered. The drum spun. Names were drawn—one by one—fair as falling snow. When the final slip was opened, the herald smiled. “Lifeiscool,” she called. The gates of Royale opened not with thunder, but with warmth. Inside, laughter welcomed him like an old friend who had simply been waiting for the right moment to say hello. And on the crooked hill, the Big Bad Wolf watched the children enter—not with hunger, but with peace. For even wolves, in fairytales, can learn new endings. And from that day forward, whenever the raffle drum spun beneath the morning sun, the kingdom remembered a simple truth: Hope may walk slowly, but it always finds the door meant for it. And Lifeiscool? He finally played Royale— not as the fastest, but as the one who never stopped believing. THE END