Three Kings

the journey into a forest to satisfy one's greed

Three Kings

A dark storm was brewing in the eastern sky, the light was getting dimmer by the passing moment. It was as if the sun was being engulfed into murky water. The moon peered through all the gloom and the sun was on its way to hibernation. Below the celestial wilderness stood the wilderness of nature, the Great Forest. The Great Forest, as dictated by the elders of the nearby settlements, explained the great mysteries hidden among the thick canopy of the forest, and that a dark tall mysterious figure was chief resident of the forest. Many claimed that it was death himself. The elders often claimed having seen this dark entity, clad in dark cloak from head to toe; his arms skinny and fingers as long as the arms itself. The head covered in a shroud of the black linen but failed to cover the glowing red eyes. And this mysterious entity always had a long handled scythe with him, many think for reaping the soul of people. The Great Forest with its only residence, always managed to keep a dark and desolate ambience around itself.

During one such gloomy and stormy night, three kings stood in front of the dark forest. They stood timidly at the edge of the entrance to the thick canopy. Their minds flooded with the stories of the entity and his mostly unknown actions. But it was death, nonetheless, they were sure of it. The kings looked at each other, not being sure whether they wanted to undertake this risky endeavour. Their minds wondered to the farthest regions of the human psyche trying to rationalize the maddening urge to move forward. Their minds could not comprehend what lay ahead among the wilderness. They took a bold step towards their uncertain faith. They moved forward with a rhythmic but steady march towards their destiny like a fly flying toward the luring trap of the flower. The scene around them was nothing but soothing. The dark trees stood boldly tall and boasted all the sturdiness they were meant to resemble. The forest floor felt damp and mossy, it filled the air with a musky smell which immediately mesmerized its inhalers. The smell was not over-powering but irresistible at the same time. The vision was limited to a mere few yards, as the uncanny dense fog covered everything, as long as the gaze could wonder it was only greeted by the snowy fog. But the brothers kept a slow and steady pace. It was quite clear that the insides of the forest never experienced much difference in the sun’s ways. The light was always limited to a degraded visibility, where the knowledge of the goal was a necessity to be moving forward. Great as the name might suggest, was not only the thick canopy and mighty trees; it was also all the other small but significant occupants. They made noises which was dreary dreadful and a cry for the wild to regenerate into life whenever it went numb. Screeches, nibbles, scratches and the breaking twigs kept the music alive in the lonely dark forest.

They were kings and from distant lands, undertaking a vicious journey to get what they want. But what did they want? What can a king want? There was no time to ponder on the mortal affair of things then. The time for thinking had already passed and it was the time to act. The advancement was steady for the forest did not take lagging well. The shiny robes and golden boots were covered in the moss they trampled with fear, their long hairs scattered on their panting faces as the long strain of sweat slowly trickled down their diamond studded crown. Their eyes glowing dimly trying not to lose focus, but to focus on what was unclear. Their hearts never failed them before and it wouldn’t fail them now. It pumped blood to their veins as fast as it could making the sound like the trumpets blown in the name of the King, the Great King. The darkness was nothing but the mere reflection of their hearts where it echoed in the songs sung in their praise. But their pride was lost in this wilderness, their songs drowned in the sounds of free verse which flowed from every direction overpowering their senses.

They stopped suddenly. A low moan could be heard in the distance as if the spirit of the Great forest had been hurt and it was calling for ailment. They stood still, dead silent, listening to the beckoning for the souls of itself and its spirit. They had never heard a moan so melodic, which even the most wanted women couldn’t make while being filled with love which promised ends of worlds at their feet. The moan was answered by a moment of silence like the lovers’ reconciliation with their achievement which finally anchors the moment in eternity.

The mighty kings looked at each other again. The colour from their eyes had fled as if they had already encountered the unknown entity. Sweat slowly trickled form their pale skin which ran down to their overly heated bosom and evaporated into the mist. But their lust of greed just led them forward. Moving a few further steps they could see the silhouette of a structure, long standing hut which resembled a crudely made attempt to survive. Perhaps this was it, the residence of the dark entity, Death. The kings stood still for a few moments, their feet not wanting to move forward, but an irresistible force drew them toward the broken hut. They moved as slowly as they could. Their bodies were numb and their minds flooded with the infinite number of inferences, which would ultimately lead to their restitution.

They approached the house with caution and came up to the door. There was dusty smell around the broken structure, the poorly thatched roof almost fell off the supporting four walls and all of the hut was one whole piece of rotting wonder. The smell was pungent and made it unbearable to stand it for too long and they had to cover their mouth. The first king nodded his head towards the others, signalling one of them to knock on the door or at least what was left of it. The second king seconded the motion of the first king and the third king complied. The hut was made of dark greyish straw but the door was made of wooden planks put together and a big skull hung from the top, swaying with the ever so slight uncanny breeze. The third king raised his hands to knock. But even before he could reach the door, there was a loud thud and the skull hit the door hard. Their hearts froze. The door still remained shut. The kings gulped and stared blankly at the skull on the door. While they stood frozen, they door cracked and opened slightly. A sudden gust of wind blew out of the door. The wind had a mixture of the smell of rotting leaves, straw and rotting flesh, the smell of death itself. The door opened some more slightly as if welcoming into a fortress of solitude. The kings answered the answer and took a step in. They stood at the door which closed behind them and the room was dark which made it difficult to see anything around them. But among all the darkness the silhouette of a figure could be made. There was nothing in the room other than the still statuette of what lay ahead; still dead still. “Do you know your story?” a shrill voice rang through all the empty space. The kings froze. They knew not what to do or what to answer. “Do you know your story?” repeated the voice.

“We are here to ask to you something for each of us” said the first king, and eldest of the three, with a cracked voice. “No, you are here to know your stories, all of you” came the reply. “I have seen kings greater than yourselves play with the lives of themselves and others and have seem them destroy their lives in order to fulfil their desires. I have lived in this great forest for centuries and have watched men come and go while in their youth, filled with vigour and zeal, and their will to conquer the world or to bring it down under their feet.” The kings couldn’t make much sense of the ramblings but they were intended listeners nonetheless. The silhouette kept speaking but now it stirred and reached slowly toward something beside it, “You and your kingdoms would fall. Fall it will, but give it some time and it will, it will”. The voice stopped and silence again filled the space. A small light fire lit, and the kings could now see what lay in front of them. The man they heard all those stories about was standing just few feet away from them. His back was turned against them so they couldn’t see his face but the black clothing and the long handled scythe that lay beside him said everything. The second king asked “Who or what are you?” “I am your destiny, I am the destiny of all men like you. I am You.” Having said these words he turned slowly towards the kings standing behind him. As he turned, the kings took step back, clearly not prepared what they were about to see. Finally he turned and brought the light closer to his face. The kings looked at the face of the man or entity for the first time and gasped. Their hearts almost leapt out their place and their eyes couldn’t believe what they witnessed. They stood where they were, frozen in time and their mouths gaped wide. Their bodies shivered from the cold and the shock which made them unable to move and had grasped their complete and undivided attention to the entity in front of them. He continued “Now you see why! I told you. I am YOU! And there is nothing more you can want from me.”

The kings couldn’t take it anymore, they turned and ran. They ran as fast as they could. Their feeble minds didn’t run along with their feet but was lost somewhere in that hut and stayed there. They ran through the mist and fog, through the moss and the thick canopy. Everything seemed different. The canopy was more thicker than before and so were the sounds, which got louder and louder with each of their fast moving footsteps, as if it were catching on to them. But they didn’t have any time to react just to run and get away from the godforsaken forest. But the more they tried to get away from it, the more it engulfed them. They felt as if they were in a maze like a rat running through the tunnels, filled with all the filths of the world. They all felt light headed and dizzy. Their sights grew dim and everything whirled around them. A loud thud, and all of them collapsed. One last time they opened their eyes and saw the man standing atop them, laughing. He bent down to them and said “I am You; and You will be me! And that’s you story.” And finally they collapsed.

The air was chilly, filled with the fragrance of dampness and the unique smell of the forest. The surrounding was peaceful, more serene than usual. There was no usual rustling of the leaves, no screeches of the animals and no sign of the seemingly never ending mist. It was quiet beyond normal. The kings lay there unaware of their quiet surrounding and what could transpire around them. The dangers that lay ahead of them among the wilderness. But there came noise, slowly but steadily approached the unconscious. The kings men, who had been waiting eagerly at the edge of the forest, came looking for their masters. They came with torches and lanterns, spears and swords, prepared for anything that might stand in their way. But they didn’t have to use any of them. They found their masters lying in the moss and fern filled earth, covered by filth and an exquisite fearful expression of their faces. They ran towards their masters, knelt down to their faces and called out “Sire, Sire! Can you hear me? Sire, wake up my lord!” The kings jumped to consciousness and almost screamed “leave us alone! leave us alone!” Their men calmed their nerves and asked them a volley of questions “What happened my lords? What did you encounter? Did you encounter the beast?” The kings looked pale as all the recollection of the previous night came back to them slowly, piece by piece, one nerve wrecking punch at a time. They couldn’t speak, their throats were bone dry and their stomachs churned unusually which almost made them spill out their insides. Their eyes were blank and lifeless, gazing only in the distant horizon where the events occurred. “I don’t know what happened to us!”

“We met somebody but don’t know who or what!”

“How did it look my sire?”

“It looked like.....” the eldest king paused before speaking any further. He said with a distinct but distance voice “ He looked like me. It was me. It was me but grotesque and maimed from the some force which I can never explain. His eyes were glowing red and it looked right through me. I could see myself in them; my dark, lustful, greedy soul. He was me, he was me.......me........me”. The ramblings went on. The men wondered what perhaps they might have witnessed or was it just the fatigue that took this deadly toll on their minds. The three kings kept repeating

“It was.......it is...........what is it I know not!”