A Mountain Tale
Long, long ago, a peasant wandered the mountains with a heavy heart. His dreams of love and prosperity had been recently been crushed. You see, he had been in love with a girl. Not just in love, but completely in love. The kind that makes a man plan his life around every single detail of the object of his affection. The sun would rise, and so would the peasant boy. His waking thoughts would unfold like a beautiful dream of how he and the object of his heart's desire would pass their time together. Then as reality crept in to his waking mind as the sunlight crawled into the corners of his small hut, his disappointment at the dream's end would be replaced with the elation of the chance of meeting her that day and he would fantasize about their future together. You see, he had already won her love and they stole every minute of each day that they could to be together on the mountain where he wandered. The only place they could be alone and in love.
The peasant was young and he knew to win the respect of her father, a local magistrate, he needed to achieve a title of honor. The only way he knew how to do this was to pass the provincial exams and enter into the Emperor's service. And so, the boy studied every day and every night. For years he toiled over the characters and charters and memorized them all. His mind was quick to learn and within his heart was the passion to translate the old scripts into meaningful precepts which would benefit the people of his prefecture.
After ten years of study, all the while working the meager fields of his family's plot, the peasant boy went to the capitol to write the royal exams. He passed with some acclaim and returned the following month proudly riding a pigmy horse and wearing the tunic of the civil servant class.
His love was overjoyed to see him, after so many years of secret hope and yearning they had a chance to be together openly. She told him of a banquet her father was holding that night in honor of the local militia and urged him to attend and request her hand in marriage publicly. That night the boy, now a man draped in the garb of official office, arrived at the magistrate's home and was seated and the table far from the guests of honor and his love, who sat silently beside her father. After the banquet had progressed for some time, the boy rose and addressed the table;
"I have recently achieved the most humble rank of civil servant of the provincial prefecture of his royal Emperor's magistrate. I wish to, and with great respect, request the honor of the local magistrate's daughter's hand in marriage", he said with dignity.
The table fell still and the guests all looked towards the head of the table where the magistrate sat with his daughter and the militia leaders.
"You know, my daughter is of age and would make a fantastic wife" the magistrate said to the handsome militia leader who sat beside him.
"I would most certainly agree", said the militia leader. The daughter all the while had kept her head bowed respectfully.
"Your Honor!" said the boy exclaimed with some authority. "I wish to marry your daughter, we have been in love for the past ten years!"
"I would greatly like to build an estate to the north of the village and begin a family", said the young militia leader. "I've been fighting for a year and have killed many invaders, my family used to work the books for the emperor but I never had the heart for such dry and dull work." The militia leader stood as he finished and the magistrate stood with him.
"Good show, I would be honored to provide you the land and the construction crew. Let's have the wedding...uhm tomorrow?" the Magistrate queried.
"Oh, why not," the militia leader replied.
"Sir! I have an official title! I am a member of the court of the emperor! I am not a peasant any more. My love for your daughter is such that it grows painful with every beat of my heart that does not echo against hers!" The boy shouted. But the table had cleared and all had left, including his love with her new husband to be. Not a glance she had spared his way.
The boy was left alone.
That night the boy made a decision. He knew he had been scorned, but his love was unabated and he climbed the mountain once more and sat atop it and decided to die. He knew that the militia leader planned to build his estate on this ground and that if he managed to keep his love stronger than his body, his spirit would always occupy this space and he would be close to her. It was a painful choice, but his humble peasant heart knew not how to fight the militia leader and the magistrate. He knew only how much he wanted to be close to his love. So, he sat on the peak of the mountain and prepared to pass away slowly.
That night, invaders crept into the valley and razed the village. The militia was caught off guard and was overwhelmed. As the magistrate and his guard were being slaughtered, the girl managed to escape and ran for the mountain where her and her love had once met every day. She was cut down by the invaders arrows as she ran up the hill. Her love had since died atop the mountain, his heart had given up on the terrible task his mind had put unto it and his spirit was then left forever shackled to mountain top.
The peasant was young and he knew to win the respect of her father, a local magistrate, he needed to achieve a title of honor. The only way he knew how to do this was to pass the provincial exams and enter into the Emperor's service. And so, the boy studied every day and every night. For years he toiled over the characters and charters and memorized them all. His mind was quick to learn and within his heart was the passion to translate the old scripts into meaningful precepts which would benefit the people of his prefecture.
After ten years of study, all the while working the meager fields of his family's plot, the peasant boy went to the capitol to write the royal exams. He passed with some acclaim and returned the following month proudly riding a pigmy horse and wearing the tunic of the civil servant class.
His love was overjoyed to see him, after so many years of secret hope and yearning they had a chance to be together openly. She told him of a banquet her father was holding that night in honor of the local militia and urged him to attend and request her hand in marriage publicly. That night the boy, now a man draped in the garb of official office, arrived at the magistrate's home and was seated and the table far from the guests of honor and his love, who sat silently beside her father. After the banquet had progressed for some time, the boy rose and addressed the table;
"I have recently achieved the most humble rank of civil servant of the provincial prefecture of his royal Emperor's magistrate. I wish to, and with great respect, request the honor of the local magistrate's daughter's hand in marriage", he said with dignity.
The table fell still and the guests all looked towards the head of the table where the magistrate sat with his daughter and the militia leaders.
"You know, my daughter is of age and would make a fantastic wife" the magistrate said to the handsome militia leader who sat beside him.
"I would most certainly agree", said the militia leader. The daughter all the while had kept her head bowed respectfully.
"Your Honor!" said the boy exclaimed with some authority. "I wish to marry your daughter, we have been in love for the past ten years!"
"I would greatly like to build an estate to the north of the village and begin a family", said the young militia leader. "I've been fighting for a year and have killed many invaders, my family used to work the books for the emperor but I never had the heart for such dry and dull work." The militia leader stood as he finished and the magistrate stood with him.
"Good show, I would be honored to provide you the land and the construction crew. Let's have the wedding...uhm tomorrow?" the Magistrate queried.
"Oh, why not," the militia leader replied.
"Sir! I have an official title! I am a member of the court of the emperor! I am not a peasant any more. My love for your daughter is such that it grows painful with every beat of my heart that does not echo against hers!" The boy shouted. But the table had cleared and all had left, including his love with her new husband to be. Not a glance she had spared his way.
The boy was left alone.
That night the boy made a decision. He knew he had been scorned, but his love was unabated and he climbed the mountain once more and sat atop it and decided to die. He knew that the militia leader planned to build his estate on this ground and that if he managed to keep his love stronger than his body, his spirit would always occupy this space and he would be close to her. It was a painful choice, but his humble peasant heart knew not how to fight the militia leader and the magistrate. He knew only how much he wanted to be close to his love. So, he sat on the peak of the mountain and prepared to pass away slowly.
That night, invaders crept into the valley and razed the village. The militia was caught off guard and was overwhelmed. As the magistrate and his guard were being slaughtered, the girl managed to escape and ran for the mountain where her and her love had once met every day. She was cut down by the invaders arrows as she ran up the hill. Her love had since died atop the mountain, his heart had given up on the terrible task his mind had put unto it and his spirit was then left forever shackled to mountain top.
And so they were left apart, to wait for time to breathe its wind and rain down upon the mountain's back and bring them together.
Where their bodies had lain, strange totems grew both facing each other in frozen longing, growing closer as the mountain slowly flattened, knowing they would reunite once again.
posted by segovia at 5:08 AM
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