Ask a meisylph and he will speak in lilting, rhythmic tones of the two hunters on the mountain…
Once in a wood, as the leaves shaded gold, and the air on the heights found its chill, two traveled far from the home of their kin, and the road led them up to the sky. Hunters they were, tracking game up the mountain, out past the old bounds that they knew. Water spilled forth from a rough wall of stone, in a glade where their trail ran to ground.
Strewn all around like a bed made of sky they saw blooms of uncommon allure. Both of the hunters fell silent to see such a treasure in parts past their ken. Neither could tell what the flowers might be, but their value was clear to behold. Each saw the way they should deal with the bounty, but each saw a different design.
“Let us go now with our packs full of treasure,” said one hunter, glad it was found. “These are a gift from the wilds of Belassus, he smiles on our people this day.” He saw their beauty and wanted to bring it to brighten their forested home. If they returned with a gift so surpassing, their village would grow in renown.
“No,” said the other, “This glade is a magical place, we should let it alone. These are not ours to be taken away for the glory they bring on our folk.” He saw the quiet and solemn display and he dreaded to tear it apart. Surely the Lord of the Wood would prefer that they suffered the mountain its pride.
Neither could win when they argued the point, and the sun swiftly dropped in the sky. Soon the two needed to act on their squabble or let the day end on their strife. They gathered blossoms to carry along in the end, but took only a few. As do the beasts in their grazings, the hunters contented themselves with their share.
Still do the blossoms grow bright in the vale at the foot of the cleft in the stone. Still do they spread twixt the trees of the village the hunters called home in the end. Now both these sanctums are one, for the hunters could find beauty out in the wild, carry it home but preserve the clear spring where they first saw the blooms all around.
And the meisylph will tell you that the story’s lesson is harmony.
Once in a wood, as the leaves shaded gold, and the air on the heights found its chill, two traveled far from the home of their kin, and the road led them up to the sky. Hunters they were, tracking game up the mountain, out past the old bounds that they knew. Water spilled forth from a rough wall of stone, in a glade where their trail ran to ground.
Strewn all around like a bed made of sky they saw blooms of uncommon allure. Both of the hunters fell silent to see such a treasure in parts past their ken. Neither could tell what the flowers might be, but their value was clear to behold. Each saw the way they should deal with the bounty, but each saw a different design.
“Let us go now with our packs full of treasure,” said one hunter, glad it was found. “These are a gift from the wilds of Belassus, he smiles on our people this day.” He saw their beauty and wanted to bring it to brighten their forested home. If they returned with a gift so surpassing, their village would grow in renown.
“No,” said the other, “This glade is a magical place, we should let it alone. These are not ours to be taken away for the glory they bring on our folk.” He saw the quiet and solemn display and he dreaded to tear it apart. Surely the Lord of the Wood would prefer that they suffered the mountain its pride.
Neither could win when they argued the point, and the sun swiftly dropped in the sky. Soon the two needed to act on their squabble or let the day end on their strife. They gathered blossoms to carry along in the end, but took only a few. As do the beasts in their grazings, the hunters contented themselves with their share.
Still do the blossoms grow bright in the vale at the foot of the cleft in the stone. Still do they spread twixt the trees of the village the hunters called home in the end. Now both these sanctums are one, for the hunters could find beauty out in the wild, carry it home but preserve the clear spring where they first saw the blooms all around.
And the meisylph will tell you that the story’s lesson is harmony.