Fall of the Sky Kingdom

Prologue

The sky is a different place when you fly through it. Many times, I have sat on a plane and looked out the window and, it seems to be a different world out there than what we see from the limitations of our existence down here on earth. When you fly, the clouds are ahead of you, around you and most interestingly, beneath you. Majestic, mile-high cirrus and cumulus towers loom up, rose-tinted when the sun is low on the horizon. They look exactly like mountains, which in a way, they are.

If you are airborne during the earth’s late evening, a darker hue seeps into the crisp and clear blue dome of sky. The first star comes out – which one is it? And before you know it, a profusion of stars present themselves, forming constellations older than man and his limited knowledge.

Who is to say mountains can only be of the earth? Who is to say there aren’t other worlds or realms up there? I will tell you of the story I heard as a child.

 

1.

Some among us have long known of the fabled existence of cities among the clouds. These were the ancient sky kingdoms where generations thrived and vanished, disappearing completely from humanity’s collective knowledge, save for brief glimpses that remain in the near-forgotten literature of various civilisations. They were not Gods strictly speaking, but a pure race somewhere between humankind and divine beings in the order of creation, blessed with the ability to travel through the skies in their magnificent chariots. They lived, loved and died as did lesser mortals on earth. Only the lifetimes were longer, the carefree days more blissful while darkness, when it arrived, was entirely more crushing.

There came a time when the First Kingdom, blessed with lifetimes of bountiful harvests and benevolent leadership, had passed the zenith of its rule and was threatened with war unless it subjugated itself to the rule of the war-mongering Third Kingdom. Emissaries journeyed between both nations, intent was counter clarified, until it became abundantly clear that the First Kingdom was left with two clear choices – surrender or face annihilation.Surrender was not a choice for the aged ruler of the First Kingdom, King Ilarum. Thus, the second option was accepted and allies sought, to gather a fighting force that would beat back and defeat the would-be usurpers. Only the distant Second Kingdom, over in the direction of the sky where the first star appears every night, seemed the right choice, both in moral compatibility as well as having a formidable military strength.

Prince Tala, son of Ilarum and sole heir to the First Kingdom, was sent with instructions to make a pact with the ruler of the Second Kingdom and bring back reinforcements as soon as possible. That very evening, Tala led his band of warriors and raced across the heavens. In the night sky, guided by the stars, the travellers made their way through the valleys and mountains of clouds, carved by the winds, that separated the two kingdoms. News of their mission had reached the citizens of the Second Kingdom. The First Kingdom was well known and respected for the nobility of its rulers. Tala and his entourage were greeted warmly through the streets of the great city. They were led up to the Crimson Palace, where King Avo, ruler of the Second Kingdom, awaited them.

King Avo was impressed by what he saw. Tala, by his regal bearing and intelligent speech, displayed all the hallmarks that were the signature of the warriors of the First Kingdom. Avo listened intently to the request for assistance in the face of the looming war with the Third Kingdom and finally, made his reply,

“I know very well of the honour and valour of your Kingdom. Perhaps you have heard of our own, more modest, achievements in return?”

“Yes, I have,” Tala answered.

“My army is your father’s. I only request one favour in return. I wish to bring our two good houses and Kingdoms together. Will you marry my daughter, the Princess Geven, in return for our support in this war?”

Without allowing the prince the opportunity to reply, Avo held up his hand, “Make not a hasty answer, my young Prince. First, hear me out. There is something you must know of my daughter, Geven.”

Here King Avo, for the first time, looked a little less regal and displayed a vulnerability that one would not have guessed he was capable of. He continued, “She has not spoken a word since birth. Not to us. Not to anyone. We have learnt to communicate with her through signs, gestures, touch and through interpreters who have spent years with her.”

He stepped off the throne and walked down to stand before Prince Tala, who stood uncertainly on the thick carpet, watched by his own men, under the archaic dome of the Crimson Palace.

“Geven is blessed with divine beauty, and in return, deprived of the ability to speak. I say this not as her father, but as someone who has seen and heard many wondrous things in my long years on this throne. Her heart, Prince Tala, is of the purest quality and she can communicate more eloquently than any of us gifted with the power of speech.  Once you become familiar with her language and her ways, the gestures of her hands and the movement of her eyes, you will understand what I mean. I have not offered her hand in marriage to any suitor all these years, not as one may imagine, of out shame, but in a long wait for the appearance of a worthy man. And now that I offer her hand in marriage to you Prince Tala, laugh not at me for being an old man who is unable to hide his foolishness. Think carefully over this, ask the right people in my kingdom what you must and come to a speedy decision. My army will be ready to travel by midnight should you choose to accept my request.”

With these words, Avo touched Tala on his shoulder gently, turned and walked out of the hall, his footsteps echoing into silence.

“Do not return without securing immediate assistance. Offer in return whatever is requested, for without assistance, there is no hope of us prevailing.”

  

2.

Tala pondered long and hard over this dilemma. He sat in the darkened guest room of the palace and recalled the words of his own father, Ilarum.

‘Do not return without securing immediate assistance. Offer in return whatever is requested, for without assistance, there is no hope of us prevailing against the greed of this Third Kingdom.’

The First Kingdom’s very existence was at stake in the present crisis. It was not a light decision for the prince, for all First Kingdom rulers were upholders of the highest moral standards. Above all, they kept their word. They married only once, for life, regardless of the challenges of the union. If Tala agreed, it would mean the princess would be his bride for the rest of their lives.

Tala’s men had asked around and learnt that stories of Geven’s unearthly beauty were indeed true. It was said by the folk in the kingdom that babies at birth and young children would have their eyes wrapped with soft cloth, so as not to accidentally behold the princess and risk being bewitched by her features and turned mute. The catch was of course that she, the lady herself, was could not speak. Tala could not reconcile the conflicting voices within him and asked around for guidance among his entourage, which included his father’s trusted counsellors. Then, a priest of the Second Kingdom sent word that he wished to speak with the prince. Tala received the priest. The elderly priest indicated that he had the best interests of both kingdoms at heart and very briefly gave his advice,

“Beings, both in this world and others, are brought together for a reason. One has flaws which appear to be strengths and another may have admirable qualities which, later, turn out to be fatal. Princess Geven is mute. But she can communicate better than anyone with the gift of speech. Doubt not there is a blessing there that you may discover to your advantage, young prince.”

Tala listened and replied that he understood the priest’s meaning. He voiced the doubt that had been plaguing him all along,

“I have a terrible temper, which has led to rash acts in the past. It comes from my belief that justice should prevail for everyone. I have offended my father on many occasions due to my impatience. I fear my character will be an obstacle that would threaten any marriage, what more one where my bride would not be able to counter me on equal terms.”

“We know of you, Prince Tala. Stories of you and your father’s Kingdom are told to our children. King Avo did not make his selection lightly. You are a noble warrior with a soft heart. Unlike others, I do not see that as a poor combination. And do not underestimate the strength of the silent lady who may soon become your bride. I will say only this to you. There is nothing to fear in this decision you must make.”

The prince meditated upon the words of the priest and requested an audience with Geven, which she granted. In the presence of a court lady who acted as interpreter, Tala was introduced to Geven and it would suffice to say that he had any doubts, on accepting the offer of marriage, removed. Her words, conveyed by the third person, possessed an intelligence and clarity that Tala had seldom come across in his life, having met numerous learned officials, kings, courtiers, priests and travellers. None came close to the young lady seated before him, sharing her thoughts about the war and the marriage proposal through only her gestures and the words of the interpreter. She possessed knowledge and an ageless wisdom that he had never witnessed in one so young. Suffice to say, Tala lost not only his heart to this silent beauty before him but his very soul was in thrall of her magnificent character. He went away fearing that she may find him unworthy as a partner.

Later that evening, when King Avo came to see him and repeated his proposal, this time on behalf of his daughter, Tala accepted with a lightness in his heart that he had not known before. He sent out his fastest riders to return to the First Kingdom with the news of the secured alliance and a special message to his parents regarding the offer of marriage which he had accepted.

Shortly after midnight, Prince Tala led King Avo, his daughter Geven and their army out of the Second Kingdom and into the star strewn highways, heading back home. In his heart, he feared his parents’ reaction to his decision, but his conscience felt reassuringly clear.

The chariots rode hard and fast through the freezing night and arrived at the gates of the First Kingdom as the last stars faded. The fear of impending war was evident on the streets of the city as they rode through it, although there was an audible sigh of relief to see Tala return with help. No one knew of the personal choice he had made to secure that help, except his parents.

They were waiting for him. Tala went to see them and sat on a bench beside his mother, Amala the Queen, as his father looked on. He retold all that had happened and ended by announcing that he had made up his mind to marry the Princess Geven. He knew the marriage would not only benefit the Kingdom by securing a new ally but now, trusted that he himself would prosper by being betrothed to the daughter of King Avo. He said all this as confidently as he could, but when he looked up at his parents, his eyes still reflected a sliver of fear.

Amala allayed his fear by expressing her joy at the news, as did his father, Ilarum. She told him that they had always known that his unique strengths and weaknesses would only be complemented by an equally rare partner. King Avo and his daughter were welcomed into the royal household. After a short breakfast, the marriage was solemnised, just as news of the first battles reached the gates of the city.

Then it came. War raged like the sea tides, surging and receding. It went on, solar year after solar year. The beautiful days faded from the memory of older folks as only darkness and death filled the minds of the youthful. Prince Tala, the Kings Ilarum and Avo, and their cousins, all rode out in their chariots and returned late every evening, bloody and spent.  Soldiers, too many to count on both sides, fell from the sky. In the second year of the war, a terrible storm of hail came and turned the pale blue sky into a permanent blackness. Stones the size of fists were driven horizontally, making it impossible to ride in a chariot, much less wage war.

In the dark days of the hailstorm, which allowed only intermittent yet brutal fighting, Tala would walk in circles in his chambers, decrying the waste of life brought on by the war. He felt it was not worth losing countless lives for the sake of greed or the madness of another King. But his father, as well as King Avo, Geven’s father, both would not let go of what was theirs. They believed the war must be seen out and set forth in fresh lust for blood every time the storm eased. This did not bring victory or even any progress towards it, only more death. Both the allies and their enemy, the Third Kingdom, refused to negotiate peace. Each half-hearted attempt, by peace-loving emissaries from both sides, only resulted in a fresh cycle of violence. Tala would rage about the madness of continuing the fight in his chambers (since his father would not hear of it anymore from him) and Geven would listen patiently. She would not answer of course, but observe him with her dark eyes. And sometimes, when she needed to, she would merely hold his hand, calming him down instantly. And in time, Tala learnt to let Geven’s silence calm him whenever his rage threatened to spin out of control.

 

3.

In the third year of the war, Tala’s father died. Within a short time, King Avo too passed on. And so, while the hailstorm and war continued, Tala ascended to the throne of both the First and Second Kingdoms, which united under his rule. He then declared his long-held intention to end the war by surrendering the First Kingdom to the enemy. He wanted to end the fighting and retreat to the Second Kingdom to avoid further needless deaths. This decision nearly tore the First Kingdom apart. A minor revolt grew into a near mutiny. Minister proclaimed that Tala had lost his courage and risked losing the honour of the Kingdom as well. But there were enough sensible elders and subjects to stand by Tala’s decision and they agreed to follow him to his wife’s ancestral home. Those who opposed him elected to remain behind. Some of them were accepted by the enemy forces when they overran the First Kingdom. The unlucky ones were killed. With a single decision, the protracted war was over. The Third Kingdom proclaimed victory and took over the wealth and lands of the First. Tala, Geven and their loyal subjects left for the Second Kingdom, which welcomed them. And thus, the first of the sky kingdoms, fell.

As expected by Tala, the greed of the Third Kingdom did not extend as far as the Second Kingdom. The refugees lived and prospered in the new land in the following years. The Crimson Palace’s fresh glory was heard by all the kingdoms. Alliances and trade were built which proved a deterrent to any who aspired to approach the Second Kingdom with ignoble intentions. Tala felt he had done the right thing. In his heart, while he felt a sense of loss for having given up his ancestral kingdom, he knew he had been true to himself, choosing to put the interests of countless lives over the select few.

But losses are always replaced in due course of time. The present brought its own new inheritances, promising to grow into greater bounties for the Second Kingdom. Shortly after arriving back home, Geven gave birth to mischievous, twin boys. Their eyes were closed by midwives when Geven delivered them and they were not permitted to look at their mother directly until they were six months old.

Those who ignored the old customs and permitted children to steal a peek at Geven, soon had to take them to healers to cure them of the shock and recover their ability to speak.

When Tala sat with Geven, watching their boys run and scream at the top of their lungs in the old garden outside the Crimson Palace, chased by breathless servants, he would steal a glance at the woman beside him and realise how blessed he was. Geven remained as enchanting as she had been as a child frolicking in her late father’s court. From the first time that he met her with a mighty decision to be taken long ago in the same palace behind them, to the sunlit garden they were seated in that day, she had never said a word to him in all their time together. But with her eyes, her patience, her soft gestures and her firm touch, she proved to be as eloquent and powerful as any creature made by the deities. In this, Tala saw the promise of her father’s word fulfilled.

 

Epilogue

This was the story of the Sky Kingdom that was told to me when I was a child. King Tala and his Queen experienced many more adventures, far too numerous to mention here. When the teller of these tales finished her stories, she would reinforce my belief in them by pointing to the night sky. As we gazed at the tiny stars twinkling high above, she would tell me that the stars were a reminder of when the chariots of King Avo and his warriors raced behind Tala to the First Kingdom. She said that each island scattered around the world was the body of a fallen soldier during the lengthy war in the sky. And finally, it was still the practice in certain places, apparently, where new born babies had their eyes closed with pieces of cloth for short periods of time, as a reminder of the measures taken to avoid getting entranced by the silent Queen.