T
Timmy had a talent. He could hear rocks talk. It sounded cool, but mostly, it was annoying.
Rocks, as it turns out, are incredibly boring. They live for millions of years and do nothing.
"I was once magma," a pebble in his shoe grumbled.
"We know, Jerry!" the cobblestones shouted. "You've told us a thousand times!"
Timmy tried to ignore them. But one day, he was walking past the castle wall when he heard a deep, resonant voice. It wasn't a rock. It was the Wall itself.
"MY BACK ITCHES."
Timmy stopped. "Excuse me?"
"DOWN HERE. NEAR THE FOUNDATION. A ROOT IS POKING ME."
Timmy looked. Sure enough, an oak tree root was wedged between two massive blocks.
"If I scratch it, will you stop complaining?" Timmy asked.
"YES. PLEASE."
Timmy dug the root out. The Wall sighed, a sound that shook the banners on the towers.
"THANK YOU, SMALL FLESH-THING. IN RETURN, I WILL TELL YOU A SECRET."
"Is it about magma?" Timmy asked suspiciously.
"NO. IT IS ABOUT THE SECRET PASSAGE BEHIND THE TAPESTRY IN THE GREAT HALL. THE KING HIDES HIS CANDY STASH THERE."
Timmy's eyes went wide. That night, he snuck in. He found the passage. He found the candy.
From then on, Timmy was the best-informed person in the kingdom. The statues told him gossip. The milestones told him who was traveling. The mountains told him the weather.
He became the Royal Spymaster at age twelve. All because he was the only one polite enough to scratch a wall's back.