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THE RECLUSE
by
Adam James Pankratz
On the borders of reality, on top of a mountain, there lived a recluse. This young man, whose features had aged beyond his years, had lost faith in others and thus preferred his solitude above all else.
Many travelers would pass through the lands; few briefly stopped. For those who did, the recluse would be amiable, usually giving them what they needed or believed they desired. Once the gifts were bestowed, the travelers fled far away, never to return. The young man was often subdued in this way.
Now the borders are vast and the recluse enjoyed the freedom they brought. One day while exploring the young man came across the Nightingale. Now the man had heard tales of the beauty of the bird's song so he asked the Nightingale to sing his worries away. She despondently refused.
"The Wolf has attacked me and stolen my song," she said. "I cannot sing for you."
This troubled the man and anger possessed him. "I will find the Wolf, punish him, and return your song."At first the Nightingale pleaded."Please do not. The Wolf is dangerous. Why risk yourself for such an unnoticeable as I?"
The man smiled down upon the bird and said, "I noticed you."
He then took the Nightingale in his palm and carried her to his home, setting her close by the fire to rekindle her spirits. Grabbing his staff, bow, and quiver the recluse set out down the mountain in search of the Wolf.
Now, the man had hunted out of necessity for several sunrises and he came across the Wolf's tracks promptly. He followed the markings through forest and stream, across pasture and crag, yet the Wolf he failed to see. On the third day the man crossed the Tortoise and asked him, "I am hunting the Wolf to retrieve a song. Have you seen him?""Nay," said the Tortoise."Though I know you will find him.Hear me now-throughout all, your patience you must retain." And the Tortoise moved on.
The trees released their color and frost greeted the man each morn. He worried for the Nightingale and whispered a blessing into the wind before he set off every day. The man trusted the wind and this gave him comfort.
The air lay still while the clouds covered the sun on the day the Wolf emerged. It lolled upon the earth, whiskers and teeth, as the recluse shouted out, "You are the Wolf, are you not?"
"I am." replied the Wolf. At this the man freed his arrow upon the beast and took upon himself the Nightingale's song from underneath its paw.
Heron witnessed the Wolf's demise and flew down to the dirt."What have you done here this day?" Questioned the bird.
"I have slain the Wolf to retrieve the Nightingale's song. My deed has been just and fair," the man answered back.
"Who are you to judge the blood beneath your nose?" Countered Heron. "I fly above greens and over waters, yet you have not traveled beyond the borders."
"It is true that I have been alone for many measures. Nonetheless, life encompasses me. As long as a tear dances upon my cheek, I will know virtue." Heron turned his brow to the man and took to the sky.
White rested upon the ground when
the recluse returned to his home and placed the Nightingale’s song below her
feathers.“I thought my song lost until the
dark, but you have shown me kindness like no other. For this, I will sing for
your heart alone.” Then, the Nightingale began to sing for the Man. Soon, he was overcome with the
beauty, and knew that they were to be joined as one.
“Your song has opened my
solitude. I wish for you and no other. Stay with me that this may be true.”
The Nightingale agreed and she sang for the Man as
often as she could.Time sauntered by.
The Nightingale’s song grew and
could be heard across the lands. Her melody seeped into every crack and no
creature could avoid her joy. Now, it is true that life is lived with triumph
and sorrow and many brackets in-between. Those who know no joy have malice for
those that do, so it was that the Nightingale’s song crept into the den of the
Foxes.
“What is
this noise that we do hear?” they asked one another. A smile crept across their
snouts and they went out in search of the source of the song.
The Man was
out in his fields, tending the crops as the Foxes slinked on by.
“This puny
little bird sings for the oaf out in the fields. What has he done to deserve
such a prize?” And with that one of the Foxes clamped its teeth around the
Nightingale and swallowed her whole. Silence
reached the Man, and fear clenched him tight. He ran to his home and witnessed
the bushy red tails fleeing into the forest. He knew the song was over.
The Man returned to his solitude and vowed never
to be taken by another. Nature laughed at his ignorance and sent a butterfly in
his window one day. The man looked upon the colorful wings and remembered. He
remembered the beauty of the Nightingale and the sound of her song. He
remembered the warmth that came over him whenever she was near. He remembered
the time they shared with one another and realized that these things could
never be taken away.
A Fox could only be a Fox, but the Man could be whatever
he set his mind to. He had saved her song for her and she had given it to him
to never be taken away.fin
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