Crows in the Kingdom

Long ago, in the peaceful kingdom of Almaris, people and nature lived in perfect harmony. Golden fields of wheat swayed in the wind, crystal rivers reflected the sky, and orchards bore fruit so sweet that travelers came from distant lands just to taste them.

But above the rooftops, another group lived — the crows. Sleek and black as midnight, with eyes like glistening beads, they were intelligent but restless. They spent their days cawing from the palace towers, swooping over the market, and watching humans with curious eyes.

For years, the crows had lived quietly, scavenging bits of grain from the fields and pecking at fallen fruit. But as the kingdom’s wealth grew, so did the crows’ ambition.

One bright morning, the leader of the crows, a large bird named Korvus, called a meeting on the tallest cedar tree.
“Brothers and sisters,” he began, “we live off scraps while the humans feast. Every year their harvest grows richer, yet we must fight for a few scattered seeds. Is this fair?”

The crows squawked in agreement.
“It is time,” Korvus declared, “that we claim more than leftovers. The fields, the orchards, and the granaries should be ours as well!”

And so began the Great Crow Plan.


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The next day, when the farmers laid out grain to dry, the crows descended in great black clouds, snatching more than they needed. They pecked at ripening apples and ruined baskets of figs.

At first, the villagers laughed at the crows’ boldness. “Let them have a little extra,” they said. “After all, they are just birds.” But the crows grew greedier with each passing week. Soon, they were taking far more than they could eat, hiding piles of stolen grain in hollow trees, letting fruit rot in the sun.

The people began to suffer. Stores of food ran low before winter, and children went to bed hungry.

King Alaric, a wise but gentle ruler, noticed the trouble and called his advisors. “We must find a way to restore balance,” he said. “But I do not wish to harm the crows. They are part of our land.”

A grey-haired counselor spoke. “Your Majesty, perhaps we should offer the crows a share of the harvest, if they agree to leave the rest untouched.”

And so, a messenger was sent to Korvus with a proposal: the kingdom would set aside special fields just for the crows, filled with seeds and fruit, if they promised not to raid the villagers’ crops.

Korvus listened carefully. “We will agree,” he said with a sly glint in his eye, “but only if the best grain is given to us.”

Reluctantly, the king accepted, hoping trust would grow between man and bird. For a short while, peace returned. The crows feasted in their own fields, and the farmers worked without fear.

But Korvus’s greed had not faded. One autumn night, under a silver moon, he whispered to his closest followers, “Why settle for a share when we could have it all? Let us take everything before the humans wake.”

The crows swarmed the granaries, spilling sacks of wheat, scattering barley into the dirt, and carrying off fruit until the storehouses were nearly empty.

When the villagers awoke, they wept at the sight. Without food, they could not survive the winter.


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That morning, the king climbed the cedar tree where Korvus sat preening.
“Korvus,” the king said calmly, “you have broken your word. You took more than you needed, and in doing so, you have brought suffering upon this land.”

Korvus only laughed. “We are crows. We take what we want. What can you do to stop us?”

The king sighed. “You have shown that greed blinds even the cleverest creature. From this day on, no man shall feed a crow, and no field shall welcome you.”

The people built scarecrows in every field, covered granaries with nets, and watched the skies. The crows found no food in the kingdom and were forced to fly far away, over mountains and rivers, in search of new lands.

Years passed. The fields of Almaris grew green again, the orchards filled with fruit, and the people prospered. But the cedar tree where Korvus once sat remained bare — a reminder of the time when greed had darkened the skies.


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Moral:
Greed can destroy even the strongest alliances. Take only what you need, and harmony will remain.