The Children’s Game
One child played the Emperor and the other child played the Warrior of Transcendence; Ulu was amazed that his children knew so much about world events…
Warriors of Transcendence, Part 3
Warriors from all the surrounding areas were beating on drums. Swarms of natives gathered from all the lower levels. The evening breeze had swept away the stench of sweat and fear. The lingering aroma of herbs and spices had also faded from the marketplace, but the visual intensity of the killing game, the images of the man’s death, were felt by all of the spectators. The sound of drumming was faint at first, distant and as light as the evening breeze, carrying a message: The dwellers of the Kingdom of White Fire are destined to be consumed by the great fire, burning at the pinnacle of their tower. The drums grew louder, rough and metallic, eliciting excitement in the hearts of the people. The pulsating rhythm opened passageways in their minds, and they soon began to transcend, in unison. Darkness deepened. Echoes arose. The streets of the marketplace became deserted. All that remained was the dance of the transcending fire, the dance of unity, burning, blurring the borders that had once separated the leather-clad warriors from the colorfully-dressed merchants.
Carrying all to the heavens, drowning all in an abyss, the fire took life and transformed it into a deeper and more thrilling substance.
* * *
All was quiet in the house. Not a sound was heard in the village, only the bark of a lone dog. Despite the early evening hour, the villagers had already returned to their homes. Ulu’s abode was located on the seashore and the comforting, familiar scene of the fishermen’s boats secured to the stone pier brought a contented smile to his face. The wooden gate to his courtyard was easily opened and as Ulu closed it behind him he felt the familiar warmth emanating from his home. As common in all villages, his home was a simple cabin, built of unadorned, wide wooden planks. Through the open window, Ulu sensed the welcoming aura emanating from within. He knocked on the door, the door of his own home, before entering.
Ulu, of average height, wore a simple light blue cloth garment. His round face, pale blue eyes, and cheerful features, were framed by curly, blond hair. His slow and careful movements revealed his contemplative nature.
Rising from his resting place to welcome his master, Ulu’s dog nuzzled him affectionately.
The large living room was decorated with colorful rugs and fabrics. The fresh scent of fields in bloom permeated the atmosphere, blending with the earthy aroma of the hot soup cooking on the stove. It was an innocent evening in a quiet and noble, simple village, reminiscent of earlier times, safe and serene. Ulu’s wife emerged from the kitchen, a smile softening her features. Like her husband, she was of average height. Her dark hair was gathered and held in place by a simple straw clasp and her lively, dark eyes, were as youthful as ever, unchanged since her youth, when she and Ulu had first met.
“I knew you would come”, she said, simply, although she hadn’t been informed of his imminent return. Nonetheless, she knew… “Like always, when the winds begin to sing, I listen and I can hear your footsteps.”
Outside, they could hear the sound of the sea breeze. Had she really heard his footsteps in the wind?
A long time had passed since he had been home. Much too long, he thought, relieved of the sadness he had felt.
Home! Ulu, accustomed to frequent journeys, fully appreciated his home, a precious place to return to. He entered his children’s room and caressed their faces. They hugged him in their sleep, but it wasn’t long before they sensed his presence and awoke to greet him. The children embraced him, jumping up and hopping about, chattering and giggling, sharing news of their home-life.
“Father!” three-year old Shaii jumped into her father’s arms, followed by five- year old Dorrianne. Ulu happily produced two carved wooden flutes from his bag, gifts for his two young daughters. He had carefully chosen this particular item in order to re-enforce his children’s belief in his occupation as a merchant of handicrafts and musical instruments.
“Father!” said twelve year old Sage, the eldest, as he embraced him, “Father, you have returned!”
“Yes, I have. And I have brought you something, too “, said Ulu as he handed Sage an intricately carved white, wooden horse.
“Thank you, Father, thank you. We have three new puppies,” Sage reported.
“In just one more week we will be able to eat the apples from the tree!” exclaimed little Shaii. “Yes, and just yesterday we planted carrots in the vegetable patch by the fence! Do you want to see it, Father?” asked Dorrianne.
“Tomorrow, my precious, we’ll see it tomorrow,” smiled Ulu as his wife joined the reunion, reveling in the happy family scene.
Ulu, presented with his daughters’ handicrafts, listened as she explained her creations. He had a love for artistic creation, and the children enjoyed creating small objects for him, each according to his own ability.
“We made this cabin with Mother”, continued his eldest daughter, as she presented a miniature model of a wooden cabin.
“It is our home”, said his youngest daughter. Sage just hugged his father and smiled. The dog, hearing loud voices in the middle of the night, entered the room and began to bark affectionately at Shaii, wishing to join the celebration.
“It’s not for you, silly, it’s for Father!” announced Dorrianne, and everyone laughed.
An hour later, they were all fast asleep. Smiles adorned their slumbering faces.
In the morning, after a festive breakfast, they went out into the garden. The apples on the tree seemed to have a lavender hue. The green grass in front of the house contrasted with the orange-colored flowers near the door. After visiting the new carrot patch and listening to his little daughter’s enthusiastic explanations, Ulu sat with his wife on a huge, old tree trunk, watching the children at play. The sun spread its rays generously over the world. A light breeze carried the smell of fresh fish from the dock. Sage pushed Shaii and Dorrianne on their swing.
For a moment Ulu thought he and his wife might be able to have a quiet conversation, but the children began to play a new and rambunctious game. Sage had fastened glittering strips of material to his blue clothing. Brandishing a long staff, he spoke to his sisters arrogantly.
“I am the great Emperor!” he announced.
Ulu’s smile abruptly dissolved as Shaii and Dorrianne bowed down to their brother. He touched their heads as if pardoning them and allowed them to resume an upright stance. Just then, Dorrianne concealed herself in the bushes for a moment, before reappearing as a new character in the game. From the folds of her blue cape, she drew out a sharpened stick, and briskly approached the Emperor.
“Who are you?” the Emperor questioned the approaching challenger, mockingly.
“I am the Warrior of Transcendence,” answered the child intently, approaching her siblings, her sword drawn.
Ulu’s eyes narrowed in great concern. While focusing on this curious game, he glanced quickly at his wife, sitting by his side. They had been together for fifteen years, and she knew the inner perceptions of his heart. He was surprised to see that his children knew so much about the external events taking place in the world. Perhaps his wife was aware of the source of their newly acquired ideas.
“The village children are fond of this game,” she whispered apologetically, as if she inwardly distrusted this seemingly innocent, popular pastime.
In the meantime, the threatened Emperor retreated to the garden fence, alarmed.
“Oh, no! Not the Warrior of Transcendence!” he exclaimed as he raised his arms for protection.
“That is nonsense. I don’t want to play this game with you any longer!” complained little Shaii. Ulu guessed that she was unhappy with her insignificant role in the game.
“What’s wrong?” asked Dorrianne.
“You are no Warrior of Transcendence!” the child asserted.
“Who told you that?” asked Dorrianne, insulted, pointing her staff towards the child who challenged her authority.
“You don’t look like a Warrior of Transcendence,” Shaii persisted courageously.
”How do you know what a Warrior of Transcendence looks like?” Dorrianne retorted, defending her position.
The little girl raised her voice, “I know that a Warrior of Transcendence doesn’t even need a sword. He triumphs with his mind.”
To be continued.
***
Purchase Warriors of Transcendence online at a special discount for Breslev Israel readers here.
(With sincere gratitude to www.levhadvarim.com)
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