Light Field / "Snake" (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
epicbraille) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
compnetwork2012-11-13 01:45 am
epicbraille) wrote in compnetwork2012-11-13 01:45 am
Entry tags:
003 | [Audio]
It's far too cold outside for a trip to the library, but I've finished all the books in my apartment. Who knows a good story, urban legend, or rumour? I'd love to hear something new, anything really.
[ A guy has to make do until he can get his hand on some fresh literature. ]
It's a little late in the year for ghost stories, although November is traditionally the month of the dead so I'll listen nonetheless.
[ A guy has to make do until he can get his hand on some fresh literature. ]
It's a little late in the year for ghost stories, although November is traditionally the month of the dead so I'll listen nonetheless.
no subject
[There are soft, rustling sounds on the feed, as Cloche settles herself into a comfortable position--after all, the tales of Rhaplanca and Maoh tend to be very, very long stories. Once settles, she begins to speak in the low, even voice of someone reciting a piece they have learned (mostly) by heart.]
Once upon a time, in the faraway past so long ago that is naught but a dim memory, there was a poor land. Every day, the sun shone brightly over the cracked, dry earth. The people who lived there sowed many seeds over that withered land. But, no matter how hard they worked, they could only harvest enough food so they could eat the next morning. Everyone worked hard and struggled just to survive.
Everything changed when a girl named Rhaplanca crafted the divine tree Implanta. Through the blessing of this tree, the land became moist and fertile. The people ate its fruits and were content. For many years, no one worried if they would have enough food to eat or water to drink. Alas, nothing lasts forever—not even the power of Implanta. When its strength began to fade, little by little, sand began to blow back into the land. It was obvious to all the people that it would not support the land for much longer.
But all was not lost. Rhaplanca, blessed by the gods, was able to commune her heart with Implanta. When she sang, she could craft magical seeds: each seed could grant the wish of a single person. One day, she gathered the people of the dying land and told them:
With these words, Rhaplanca confined herself in the temple. As she sang and crafted the seeds, the days came and passed her by. Nothing existed for her but her song: whatever happened outside the temple, she knew none of it. All she wished for was the happiness of this world. She sang every day to craft the thousand seeds, one by one, using all of the strength that her frail body possessed.
Finally, the day came when she crafted the thousandth seed. When Raphlanca went out from the temple, holding the seed in her hand, she could not believe the scene that lay before her. The world that she looked at was not one of happiness, filled with the warm smiles of the people.
Of all the seeds that she had crafted, the only one that remained was the one that she held in her hand. All the rest had been used up to satisfy selfish desires. The city had fallen into depravity: the people drowned themselves in alcohol and excess, living in palaces, while the world around them withered and died.
But this was not yet enough. The people desired the thousandth seed that Rhaplanca had crafted: the only seed that was left, that she still held within her hands. When they saw that she had it, the people began to scramble and fight for the seed. They even killed each other for it. Finally, they hung Rhaplanca up by her hands. Someone cried,
And then, as if those words had helped them settle the dispute, the people began to shout and scream at her.
When it was all over Rhaplanca used the last of her strength to crawl away from the city, carrying with her the last seed. She came to a hill where there was just one dead tree—a tree that had once given enough fruit to feed all the people—fell down to her knees, and wept bitterly. She was terribly weak, for she had no strength left from crafting the thousand seeds. Yet, her tears would not stop.
When Rhaplanca realized this, she decided to create the true utopia by using the thousandth seed. She raised it up and made a single wish:
no subject
[ Snake listened to the story with keen interest, only speaking when he was sure it was finished. ]
It's remarkable Rhaplanca chose to blame fear of death over human greed. Delayed gratification isn't an art we've mastered as a species.
[ While the outcome of giving out the seeds didn't come as a surprise, he does have one question. ]
What happens next?
no subject
[Cloche clears her throat. By the time she's done, she really will need a glass of water...]
Years later, a boy came from the faraway, faraway distance to the land where there was neither life nor death. To that boy, that land was the hometown of his heart; it was the place where his most important feelings dwelt. It was the home of a girl, who loved to sing, that he loved more than life itself. That boy’s tremendous feelings overflow through the words of this tale.
When the boy returned the land, his heart was filled with shock and despair. The great city where he had grown up lied in ruins. All of the people that had once lived there were all dead. When he looked into the houses, all he could see were traces of the lives that had disappeared. The boy wandered about the city in a daze, unable to comprehend what had happened to the land. While he wandered, he met a “still living” girl.
As they spoke, the boy’s words reached out and brushed against the girl’s spirit. She knew him from somewhere. His familiar, tender voice echoed within her heart and called out to distant memories—painful, bitter memories that she just wanted to forget. Because of that, she didn’t dare to ask for his name. Instead, she told him:
The boy then held his hand out to the girl. It was the first time that someone had reached out to her like that.
And so the two of them, Rhaplanca and Maoh, departed on a long journey together, hand-in-hand. For the first time, Rhaplanca was able to truly look at the world—to see the people who lived on it. As they traveled together, there were times when they could not understand each other and fought bitterly over it. But, as time passed, they slowly came to understand each other’s hearts. During their journey, Rhaplanca felt the emotion of “anger” many times. But, as she traveled with Maoh and they cultivated fields together, she also came to know what it was to feel “joy” and “happiness.” Every day, her emotions became stronger.
For Rhaplanca, who had always spent her life singing endlessly in the temple, everything was new. Maoh found himself teaching her about the everyday life that the ordinary people lived. Eventually, she allowed herself to do things that she had forbidden herself from experiencing. There were times on that journey when she suffered and cried. But Maoh was always by her side to support her—and, although she did not know it, Rhaplanca’s presence supported him. Rhaplanca and Maoh traveled together like that for a very long time.
One day, Rhaplanca and Maoh came to a familiar hill. They stood underneath the white branches of a dead tree, while Rhaplanca looked down at the city below. It was a dark, still place. Rhaplanca saw that there was not a single light in that city. It was a city where there was not even one hope left. It was a scene that was so heartbreaking that it cannot be described with words. Rhaplanca raised her hands to her face and began to cry. As she cried, Maoh held her. When all of her tears had been shed, Maoh said just one thing to Rhaplanca:
Rhaplanca stepped away from Maoh and stood underneath the dead tree. Illuminated by the light of the full moon, she began to sing. With every word of her song, she crafted the thousand-first seed. She entrusted her feelings of atonement to that seed. She entrusted her feelings of hope to that seed. When the thousand-first seed was finally crafted, the land was embraced by the light of the morning sun. It was the light from that sun that breathed life back into that land—and it was the brightest morning sun that was ever seen. Rhaplanca leaned on Maoh’s shoulder and, together, they looked down at the plains. Smoke rose from the chimneys of the houses of the city. It clouded the light of the morning, but was softly blown away by the wind. And, as Rhaplanca saw this, she smiled.
no subject
[ Whether he'd call it a happy end or not is neither here nor there. ]
Tell me, does anyone know if this Rhaplanca and Maoh existed in real life?
no subject
No one knows for certain. Their stories are some of the few remnants of ancient history and culture that we have. But... regardless of that fact, the ideals that are found in those stories permeate the culture of my world.