The Storyteller's Story

About 6,000 to 7,000 years ago, there lived two storytellers in a grove in the forest on a large island. They lived fairly simple lives in the woods and used their surroundings as shelters. They were the best storytellers in all the land. People came from far and wide to listen to their songs and stories, their laughter and voices. They filled hearts with joy, and the lives of those around them with love.

They never stopped living their stories. They had been entrusted by the stars to keep life in their land fruitful and full of love. They didn't ask for or need much, because the company of others gave them all the joy they needed.

They had 6 horses, each a different color and height that always went with them. If they traveled, they took all the horses with them, and everyone loved giving the horses all sorts of crazy gear. The storytellers never understood the gifts, and so they would usually give them away to whoever asked. They always got fantastic gifts of golden heirlooms, wonderful woven carpets, and so much jewelry, pottery, and keepsakes. They always gave this away, as they didn't understand why they needed all this stuff when the earth provided plenty for them and they much preferred being naked or at least partially clothed if the weather was a bit chilly. Wonderful weather always followed them wherever they went, perhaps that's why everyone desired their company so much.

They were born healers, and they could sense when folks or animals or plants needed their company. They were the best at nurturing the sick, and they would travel far and wide when they knew someone needed them. They could feel a sick person across continents, and they always knew when and where they were needed.

Life was fairly good for them and they never had really experienced emotional pain. Sure, there was the occasional stub on the toe, but physical pain was unlike the heartache that everyone said they felt and which only these two storytellers together could heal. People became sad when the storytellers would leave, and they gave them loads of gifts in the hopes that they would stay. They always knew however, that they had to return to their forest, because the trees needed them more, the trees always hurt more than the humans.

Their life was full of animals. The most ferocious of beasts would visit them and become docile. Wolves would put up their bellies to be petted, bulls would cuddle with them, and hawks would land on their arms to be stroked under the beak before going on hunts. Anywhere these 2 storytellers went would be harmonious. That's just the way the stars had planned it, the stars also didn't understand why anyone would want something besides love and harmony when those 2 things alone were what created true wealth.

The humans did however think they needed more. They hurt the trees to build their forts to kill other people in the claim they were protecting themselves. They terrorized giants and beat up or enslaved the dwarves. The nymphs were never safe as they were always seen as pure and to catch a virgin nymph and have sex with her became a sort of game. None of this pleased any of the forest creatures.

The storytellers decided to move up to the mountains because the surrounding village that had been built up around them began to develop less and less like the forest, but more and more like the greed and anger in the hearts of the people. They didn't resent the people, it just got progressively more difficult to tell their stories. When one of the horses died from disease, they felt obligated to move to higher land, away from the ocean, and closer to the older trees.

They found an enormous tree that called to them. It told them that they would be safe so long as the tree lived and was not cut for selfish desires. The trees always had faith that the humans would change their ways and eventually try to live among nature again.

The storytellers built a small cottage by the tree, but less and less people came to hear their stories. Those who did come usually brought presents, and usually tried to twist the stories to benefit themselves. When the storytellers would tell an unfavorable story to someone, the person who had brought the gifts would usually get angry, demand they change their story, and take back any gifts they had given. The storytellers didn't understand where all this anger came from when they would only tell what they believed to be the truth. If they told the person they were being selfish because they were, why would that person be angry at hearing the truth about themselves? They sort of ignored it and went about trying to feed their horses and animals, but resources became more and more scarce as the trees and plants became less trusting of the people around them, and therefore less bountiful.

The people started logging and cutting down whole forests. They would ship these logs far and wide to sell them for profit, and trees native to the land were being quickly decimated. This made the storytellers sad as they could see from their mountain home the large chunks of trees that began to disappear and the large amount of castle like structures that took their place. Then the youngest horse died. This was the first time the both of them cried, the first time death had hurt. The first horse had been the oldest, and that was expected, but the youngest horse had died when it went off into the woods and was attacked by hunting dogs. The owner of the dogs simply apologized, left them a few loaves of bread, and went about their way. The storytellers could not understand why or how the dogs would attack the youngest horse like that. They were able to calm bulls and wolves, so how could domestic dogs have done that to the horse. They knew it was time to consult the trees.

They had noticed that they were losing their ability to communicate with hearts across the waters in far off lands. The people they could heal now were only in close vicinity, and it was rare that they felt they were being called. Less and less people came to them and relied instead on potions and chemicals to cure their ailments. The consumption of fatty foods increased as the plant foods the earth provided decreased. It became a dark time for the storytellers.

The great tree they had lived around for decades began to communicate to them what it could hear in the air and from the earth. It had waited this long to tell them because it was trying to protect them. The tree told of war, of famine, and worst of all, how people lost their ability to communicate with the earth simply because they stopped believing in it. The earth did not cut the ties, the earth was scared and docile and only wanted to give, but could not keep up with the violence and chaos.

It used to be that the storytellers would sit by the tree with many animals and people and sing songs, dance and be merry. When night fell, they would make love under the moonlight and kiss under the stars in the grassy meadows. The stars were their friends and would always guide them in what to do and how to stay safe. They were one of the few people in the whole land that could still communicate fully with nature.

It became devastating when 3 other horses died. Disease from the water had wiped them out rather rapidly. They now feared for the last horse, but she was strong and loyal, she would not die before them. They had always let the horses roam free, but they now worried that if she left them, she might die. They had the ability to clean any impure water with their song, but if the horse was alone, and since she had no other horses to keep her company, they worried about her going alone. Any time she wanted to go out and wander, one of the storytellers would go with her. This meant that they could not spend as much time together, and because they were both born to tell a joint story of the earth and stars, one story alone was not powerful enough to help heal those most in need. Alone, they were significantly less strong in their storytelling.

They became very old and feeble quickly because they did not heal as many people as they once had. They never really fought with each other, they simply became less and less communicative. The determined horse stayed by their side always, even in their old age. Finally, one of the storytellers died.

He knew the day he would die because the great tree had told him. The two storytellers laid in each others arms by the tree until the taller one gave out his last breath. This was the first time the other storyteller had ever experienced pain, and he didn't wish it on anybody or anything. It was a strictly human feeling that burned the flesh and soul and it made him feel destroyed inside. He cried for hours over the dead body of the other storyteller and the horse stayed by his side the entire time.

Tears are like wishes that never go unanswered. The sun was their favorite listener. She could not bear the sight of these wonderful storytellers in so much agony. She began to burn bright with anger. She burned so harshly that seasons on the earth became unpredictable and chaotic. It blocked the moons power so people could not see what was actually there, and the sun got more and more vengeful. The brighter she burned, the more chaotic the earth became. More tidal waves, more earthquakes, more lighting, more destruction. People could not understand how the earth had gone from a relatively serene place to such chaos in a matter of years. The sun was not so much angry as it upset and saddened her that she could not interact with her two favorite storytellers anymore because of the conscious ignorance of the people. The good weather had followed the storytellers everywhere because the sun and earth wanted them to be happy. The sun asked the other stars for advice.

Until then, the stars did not involve themselves in the sun's affairs. The sun was quite smart, and they had left it all up to her, the youngest sister. Since they were also far away from the storytellers, they could not hear and enjoy their songs as well as the sun could. Despite that, they knew how much pain their sister was in, so they all insisted that they should all come to her aid.

When the first storyteller had died, the other one had cried his tears and retired to their small cottage. The moon had heard these tears and knew that she could help. She had held onto the spirits of the storyteller and their horses and hadn't let them transition to other matter. She brought back the spirits of the horses and the first storyteller to keep the living company. The other storyteller woke up in the moonlight to see the other five horses by his bedside. The living horse and him were overjoyed, and though they could not touch each other, they knew that at least they were together. The horses led them outside to where the spirit of the other storyteller was sitting under the tree singing a song. The storytellers were overjoyed to see each other and immediately sat next to each other and began to sing and dance. The wind became the spirit's kisses, and the tree leaves and branches his sweet embrace. The living horse and the living storyteller sat and rejoiced that they weren't alone anymore. From then on, anytime a person of pure heart or an animal died, they came to inhabit the small forest area so that the spirits and the living horse and storyteller would always have company. The moon also liked their songs, and so would hold onto spirits she found worthy.

One day, a great king came to visit the storyteller and his horse. He asked them why he lived in this cottage all alone with only one horse when he could live in the village with the others in more riches. The storyteller told him that he was not alone, that the spirits all lived here and that they were happy. The king laughed and said there was no way so many spirits inhabited this place and he must have gone mad. The wind got angry, doors slammed, the skies clouded, and the trees began to move. The storyteller told the king that he should not have said that. This scared the king, but he said he was the king and nobody could boss him around. He left, but he would be back.

At this point, the stars became involved. They were the ultimate time tellers and knew the events that would transpire next. The tree told the living storyteller to eat a seed from its fruit. The seed that he would eat would preserve the memory of the other storyteller in him and when it was safe again, they could come back to make the earth fruitful again. The living storyteller dutifully ate the seed. That night, all the spirits sang under a full moon for the last time. The spirit of the storyteller told the living storyteller to never let go of his memory. The living storyteller assured him that never in a million years would he do so, never.

As the trees had told him, the king came to seize the cottage and the land, and forced the living storyteller to move into the nearby village in order to heal the sick. They took away the horse and made her part of the king's stable. Try as he might, the living storyteller could no longer heal like he used to. He would forget how to laugh, how to aks plants to dance, and how to smile with love. The memory of his life quickly faded the more the people demanded that he heal them. He began to foget what it was to love the other storyteller, and in its place grew a sad sense of loneliness. He didn't understand this sensation or where it came from, he just knew he felt it. He became even older and more feeble as the years went by, and eventually was deemed as the village idiot who knew not what he said and only talked about sorcery. He was lucky to be alive.

One dark night, the living storyteller woke up abruptly. He felt a strong urge to run to the woods, but his legs would not let him. Nonetheless, he would try. He waddled out of his shitty little makeshift hut and started towards the moon. He hurt so much, but he knew he had to go. As he walked and hurt more, his old horse suddenly appeared. He had not remembered her name, but she had appeared anyway, she had found a way to escape from the king's glorious stables. She had vowed never to die until the storytellers were together again. She could not pass on until this happened.

He got on top of the horse gently and she carried him softly to the woods. Everything began to look so familiar again, he began to regain so many of his memories and dreams. He remembered somehthing about a song and five other horses. One memory got increasingly stronger as the horse walked. It was the memory of the other storyteller. When the horse felt that he had remembered, he grabbed her mane hard and held on, she began to run. Suddenly, their emaciated and battered bodies gained their last bits of strength and the old storyteller was able to sit up. As she galloped up the mountains, the earth and plants began to dance and sing. The winds rushed and whistled while he could feel the sea in the distance cheering them on. He began to see the animals all around him and he knew all their names. He couldn't believe he had forgotten them after such a short time, but he knew there was someone else waiting for him deep within the woods.

As they approached the giant tree which was now shrouded in bushes and surrounded by thorny plants to protect its location, the living storyteller knew who had been calling him. There right under the tree lit by the moon was the spirit of the storyteller. They smiled at each other and they knew it was time for them to be together. The living storyteller sat next to the tree and watched as it danced. All the spirits came out again as the two laid on the ground and sang a final song. The living horse sat happily watching her two favorite storytellers reunited, and she began to sing and dance along too. After a while, it was time, so the living storyteller took off his last bit of clothing and laid down under the tree. He took his last breath and joined the spirit of the other storyteller.

For a while they roamed the forests as spirits together. They rode with the last living horse and their spirit friends. Any time a person who was unjust to the woods came into the forest, all the spirits would make it so chaotic for them that after a while, the woods became known as being the most haunted in the whole land. Only small children and people who could talk to the trees would dare venture here. The witches would come to ask the storytellers for cures to common ailments and for general advise for the living. After a while though, the witches became ostracized too and nobody believed them anymore. The more structured human society became, the less willing they were to come out to the woods to ask for advise and cures for many ailments. The woods could cure anything if they would only listen.

This again made all the spirits sad. They liked interacting with the living too. One day however, the humans made a dire decision. They would cut down all the trees and plants in these so called haunted woods and they would show the people there were no such things as spirits. That's exactly what they did, and much to their dismay, the great tree was one of the first trees to be chopped down. Without its great wisdom, the spirits were in shambles, they could not gain their traction, and they knew not what to do. That's when the stars stepped in.

The stars from far far away decided that they would hold onto the spirits of the two storytellers and all those of the forest, so that they could play among the stars while they waited to come back to earth. Everyone agreed, and the sun soaked up their spirits, transformed them into light, and shot them clear across the universe for safe keeping. There, they played among the stars relatively carefree, but they still missed their home planet.

The horse was never found. She had been hidden by the plants, and when she was ready to die, she swam out to sea and died peacefully. Her spirit never left the earth though, she could not pass on until the two storytellers had reunited again, and she would be there as their ultimate protector. She also served as the ultimate spirit guide to structure the worlds and realms for when these two would come back.

When the storytellers were safe across the universe, the sun began to grow fierce. She harmed the humans the most. She created famine and flood and fear for them. She would create chaos just enough to where everyone would think the world was ending, and then she would give them shortlived peace for a few years before exploding into vicious cycles again. She was a young star that angered easily. She also had to learn how to be patient and loving to all creatures as well, this is why she could never destroy the earth completely even if she tried. It was her most precious creation, and if she failed at the earth, she would feel like she failed in her sister's eyes.

Rather, she preserved the memories of the two storytellers in her until she believed it would be safe again. She never forgot their song and their beauty, and she wanted them to come back.

Many millenia had passed, and the sun had learned how to love without burning everything around her or without trying to control or manipulate. The stars said it was time for her to get her two storytellers back, and they could also now tell the story of the stars. They sent them back to the sun in the form of light, and the sun used this energy to feed the new humans who had grown, who she had observed for centuries and who she knew would not fail in telling their stories and bringing back love to the earth.

She hid this information in the genes of the food the people ate as well as in the genes of the people themselves. She waited for at least one of them to listen, and one day to her surprise, two of them did. She shined bright and awoke these two dreamers. The genes in them began to rapidly unlock and pulsate through their bodies quickly. The both of them felt increasingly like they had to find each other. The sun knew what she was doing, and so she was gentle in filling their lives with beauty, but also understood the urgency of the situation. She created very clear paths on earth for them to find each other, influencing everything in the lives of those two dreamers.

One of the storytellers noticed that he could not be indoors for even a short period of time. Too many memories were rushing back to him from all over the universe. The stars, the plants, the sun, the moon, everything was telling him to wake up, to remember. This created a ton of chaos in his life, in both their lives, and put them through so many tests. It wasn't only them who had to remember, it was the whole of existence as well. They had not been on earth for that long considering the age of existence, and the stars, planets, and even the earth had almost forgotten their song. There was one being that had never forgotten though, and that was the sun. She was burning bright for them, literally singing the memories of their song into their bodies and especially their hearts once again. As the storyteller began to remember, so did everything else. The plants no longer slept in his presence, hearts began to heal, and the earth began to remember its glory. The nice weather followed the storytellers wherever they went, they were both natural healers whose love helped heal everything. Harmony was what they did best, and they were finally on the same group of islands they needed to be on for the earth to remember how beautiful their joint song was in order to bring them together again. They were being mapped by not only the universe and the sun, but by the moon, the plants, and now the rocks. Every bit of matter in existence began to sing again, driving the storytellers into each other. The entire universe had figured out who they were, even time knew now.

Things were changing on the planet more and more as the sun remembered their song. As they sang to the sun, she was able to unlock more of their memories for them and bring them closer together. Suddenly this forgotten song became more and more familiar to everyone. The sky remembered, the water, the plants, the animals, and more importantly, the two storytellers as well. Every time they met, more of the matter around them would evolve into something more beautiful.

The time they had spent as light in the stars did not go to waste. Rather than simply remain light, the stars shot them across all over the universe manifesting them into many different lifeforms to teach them about universal love. The stars figured that because they all loved their youngest sister unconditionally and believed she was the most beautiful, why not give her back the storytellers with more beauty than she had ever expected? This was the best they could do for her, and as the storytellers evolved with the sun and began to remember all their journeys, they would soon write a new song for the sun and earth, and they would tell the story of universal love. It was an exciting time to be alive for the sun, and that put a huge smile on all of their faces. The beauty had only begun. Unlocking the sun's memories was unlocking everything. The universe began to breathe.