CHAPTER TWO

Davram listened as Somei spoke.

"You must be kind to others."

"I must be kind."

Somei taught Davram of the garden. How to care for the living things. He taught him of the sun. How it gave life to everything.

"You are a singer, Davram. You have the gift of singing. I know but one song to give you. For me it is simply a good song. With you, it will be different. Listen."

Somei sang the song, learned from an elderly mage, drunk after a victorious battle. He had written the notes and words down.

Davram listened carefully. Then he sang back the song. He seemed to burst with strength from within, his skin warm and alive. It was the sun. As he sang the song over and over, the power of the sun flowed through him and he drank it up.

"You shall never starve as long as the sun shines in the sky. You will drink from it as a mighty oak would. This is the Song of the Sun."

Davram sang and sang until he could no more. He stood there, filled to the brim with sunlight. Every morning he would step out and greet the morning with the leaves of the plants, drinking in the energy as they did. It seemed the garden enjoyed his Singing.

On another day, Davram asked Somei.

"I see things in my mind when I sleep which seem real but when I open my eyes none of it has happened and I am here with you."

"Those are dreams. We gather our memories of the day and the memories of our past and they are jumbled together and shown back to us so that we may learn new things from their strange combinations. Sometimes you catch a glimpse of the future, of something which will happen much later. But it is rare. I saw you in such a rare dream and made you. Though I do not remember the details of the dream... Your name was whispered to me. Davram, a voice said. And so I have named you, and here we are conversing."

"What is outside the garden?"

"A forest of tall trees. A stream that becomes a river. Tall mountains. A sleepy valley I found so many years ago."

"What is outside the valley?"

"Villages and cities. Many people. So many. Kingdoms, large and small. Oceans. War and peace and war. Kindness. Wickedness."

"What is wickedness?"

"Knowing only of your own gain, uncaring of the suffering of others. Greed. Selfishness."

"There are people like this?"

"There are many. But there is much kindness as well. Good people. Going about their days caring for their kin and living with the world."

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"As we do?"

"As we do. Ivishinai."

"Ivishinai."

During the nights, as Somei warmed his feet against the cooking stove and smoked his pipe, he told Davram how the world was born through the Song of Naar.

"Naar, a great serpent, sings across a vast void to Vitu, a mate. The Song is this world. The world is the Song. A dazzling jewel to impress a mate. It is still being sung, and will be sung for many ages to come, and as long as it is sung this world will live."

"What will happen when the Song ends?"

"Some say the world will end. Some say that Vitu shall sing back, and the world will continue. And some say that Vitu will not be impressed by the Song, and all things will be swallowed by darkness."

"Where are Naar and Vitu?"

"We cannot see them for we are within the Song. We are the Song. Can a song know its singer?"

Davram thought about it and could find no answer.

"Some questions have yet to be answered by any man. Some may never be."

"There is so much to learn."

Somei laughed.

"I am glad you know this, Davram. There will always be much to learn. Always more. The world is thus a marvelous place. Ivishinai. It is as it is."

"Ivishinai."

A storm came upon them that night, the wind and rain beating against the window. Davram cowered from the thunder and lightning.

"That is a great force coming down from the sky. Pent up and needing of release. Do not worry. We are safe here."

"The sky is being split over and over."

"Look, it mends itself. We are safe."

Still Davram was frightened of the lightning and did not sleep until the storm had passed. The next day they found a giant tree felled by the lightning, its broken stump black and still smoldering.

"The tree is hurt," Davram said.

"It is. It is dying."

"What is dying?"

"It cannot live anymore. Its time has come and it will fall apart slowly and become part of the soil. Its life will be used as food by other things to come alive."

Somei went to the broken trunk and put his hand on it. Small leaves burst through the bark, growing up and out. New saplings emerged from the ground, the dead tree rotting and crumbling, providing nutrients to the earth around.

"It cannot live longer?"

"It cannot."

"Will I die?"

"Yes. Some day. But the day is far away."

"Ivishinai."

"Yes. Ivishinai."

"It is as it is."

"Come now, we shall have a drink this night."

"I drink water every night."

"You have not drank this."

The sun set and they sat cozy in the hut. Somei poured his precious acorn wine into two small wooden cups. He handed one to Davram.

"Take small sips."

Davram sipped at the wine. It was thick and rich, tasting of berries. He felt dizzy and laughed. Somei laughed as well.

"The world is a funny place and it is good to laugh at it."

"The world is spinning."

"Oh yes it is."

Somei took a large swig and filled his own cup.

"Some day you shall meet beautiful women. There are so many out there."

He laughed again.

"They will also make you dizzy. With their smiles, with their smell, their skin."

"Their skin?"

"Their skin is soft. It is the best thing a man can touch. I would grow the most beautiful and fragrant flowers and woo great beauties with my charm. But there was one woman. She was special. Her name was Sita. She was the most beautiful woman I had ever seen. I married her. We even had a child."

Somei stopped speaking.

"Where are they now?" Davram asked.

"Dead."

"Like the tree."

"Yes."

"So that others around may grow."

Somei drank his cup and poured again.

"Such sorrow."

"What is sorrow?"

"The thought that you will never see someone again, knowing it, the knowledge caught in your mind forever. Nothing matters. It is emptiness and pain. It is unbearable. That is sorrow."

He drank his cup, looking old and drunk.

"But you are with me now, Davram."

"Ivishinai."

"Ivishinai. You please me, my boy."