Blinding lights and angelic voices wake me. I don't understand what they are saying, but in my heart I know – I have a destiny.

I will find the king or the queen and bestow the crown upon a regal brow. However, I don't know how I will find this person. Truth be told, I am frightened by my path and that I will fail.

The voices continue, but become muted as I feel myself sinking in a wet, sticky substance. For a moment, I panic and struggle to free myself. Then I remember that I have a destiny and my fate is not to drown in quicksand or mud. I must survive somehow.

My journey begins. I endure the suffocating wet substance and then scorching, dry heat. I continue my search across the desert of time and space. And yet, I feel oddly trapped by my circumstances. I struggle to move and at the same time feel transported. And there is always a nagging doubt. Fear. What if I fail, a voice in my mind whispers.

Failure is not a possibility.

Lights come and go, the stars twinkle only occasionally through the heavily clouded sky and still my journey continues. Once or twice I am flying; my gilded carriage soars through the air, only to land and rest in place for what must be an eternity.

I will find the king or the queen. I will find this person – be it man or woman, child or wrinkled elder, I will find her or him. I must. The fates have spoken.

After waiting endlessly, from the confines of what has become more prison than means of transportation, I hear angel voices again. There is music and the tinkling of bells. No, not bells, but tinkling of metal and porcelain and the melody of children chattering happily. I have come to a place of festivity and joy.

I will certainly find the royal person here. I cannot fail. I shift in my carriage and am ready to leap out. As I do so, however, I sense the weightless sensation of being lifted to the sky.

Of course! The angels provide the way. Where I have no wings, they lend me theirs! The darkness becomes crushing for a moment and then, joy of joys! I touch, I feel, I give my blessing to the one who would be king or queen. There is blinding light once again.

"Hé! Regardez! C'est moi qui a trouvé!"

"Non, c'est vrai?"

"Laisse-voir. Mais, oui ! C'est la fève. Bravo, Mika!"

Mika. The name of the boy who is king. The crown is lifted from its platform and placed on his brow. I am set down by the angels who held me and am allowed to bask in the happiness of my accomplishment.

La Fève! The one who bestows the crown. I am the Bean.

*** AdventureCommunity contest entry for the flash fiction depicting a holiday from where I live. Epiphany, or Three Kings Day, is celebrated in the French speaking region of Switzerland on 6 January. Traditionally, everyone buys or makes a Kings cake which has a 'bean' or porcelain figurine hidden inside. Whoever finds the bean becomes the king! Thanks for reading! ***