Chapter 1: Solomons Surroundings
Solomon watched ritualistically, as the sun rose out of the sea to be handed off to the cloudy and confused sky of a new Friday morning. Falling in line with natures morning wakeup routine, Solomon began his own daily ritual of waking up; singing to the rhythm of the waves as they crashed against the rocks. Without the wonderful ringing of waves to rocks, Solomon began his random morning song: "How redundant", he sang aloud, "hhhhhhooooowwww redundant. Yet how abundant are yyooouuuuuuuuu. Full of wonder. Full of Thunder. Full of Light." Solomon was never a socially good singer in his opinion. In fact, beside his close and only friend Zoe, the only audience to have ever heard him sing was the beach in his backyard. "Whoof whoof, ruuuuuuuuuuuuuuu," Zoe chimed in with the finishing notes of the newly made up song. "Now that's a finish Zozo," Solomon said with an glowing smile towards another beautiful morning, " Now if the world could only sing ga song like that."In the village of Darakai, Solomon was seen as what they called allarbizey, or crazy. He had a house, which he built when he was a child, that stood miles apart from the rest of the village. The way he spoke to the villagers was equally allarbizey to them. It was as if he made his words dance together when he spoke to them. Most of the villagers couldn't understand why he did that, but assumed it had something to do with being exposed to the outsiders for so long. "Zozo you'd be da only one who gets me," Solomon muttered as he glided pass the first few village houses, "da rest of da villagers don't godda damn clue." And in fact they most certainly didn't. Because not only had they never been exposed to the outsiders, but they had never been exposed to the concept or experience of exploring. So how could they grasp the journey that Solomon toke within his mind every morning and moment as he raised his voice adventurously. "I tell you Zozo, when I get younger, I hope I still have me ole vision to leave dis sheltared little rock 'n' return to paradise." Zoe looked up and responded with a reassuring lick on the leg, forcing the lips on Solomons face to curl upward toward the cloudy sky.
Today was a special day in Darakai, for today the village was celebrating it's birthday. Everyone including Solomon was called to gather at the morning celebration. Solomon arrived just as the honorary Tale Teller began his traditional speech: " 200 years ago, a spirit came to this once uninhabited land with a dream. A dream to live in peace with nature. A dream to live in peace with the wild life. And a dream to live at peace with itself. The name of that spirit was Darakai!!" The Tale Teller stopped to allowed the applause and cheers to die down before continuing. "That same spirit which formed this very village formed each one of you", and as he said this he looked amongst the crowd with a glaze of pride and affection. "You, the carriers of the Darakai spirit's will and wisdom will one day raise this village to the heights of paradise." May we continue with persistence in our work until that fateful day arrives. And my fellow spirits, when that time does come, we will finally be able to put our work to rest and dance forever in the spirit of Darakai!!!" As he said this, a unified voice of all of the villager erupted amongst the celebration. "DARAKAI, DARAKAI, DARAKAI!!" As the crowd began to dance in celebration and chanting, the honorary Tale Teller slipped out from the center of the crowd and made his way over to Solomon who was feeding Zoe her morning meal.
"Sarai Sarai fellow spirit ", the Tale Teller said as he faced Solomon. He reached both his hands forward in the official Tale Teller greeting, "Hello Chaleal", replied Solomon with a tone of disdain, not bothering to shake his hands, but instead gave him a hard slap on the back. It always bothered Solomon how official Chaleal tried to be with him during the annual celebration. It was as if he transformed from being his older brother spirit to becoming the Singermen that reined supreme in the outsiders' city. "Oh come on Solomon," Chaleal groaned, "you'd a know I gotta keep up ma appearances here in da village." "Do what ya want", Solomon retorted, "just don't be expect'in me to comply ta dis foolishness. What's this we really celebrating today anyway? What "work" has dis damn village even done? And ta what end? Every year dis here village gets in dis bullpoopa happy state 'n' me 'n' you be da only ones who a even remember it anyway. Then dey wake up a next mornin and greet oneaspirit saying, "man great celebration. I can't wait until next year." makes no slickering sense Chaleal!" "Ssshhh, lower your voice Solomon", cautioned Chaleal. "Ya know da rules. Dis ere's how it gotta be. It be da only way that em villagers can relieve da pressures of responsibility dat Darakai be putt'in on em. You remember what it was like before this celebration was created, or do you need a reminder." "I need no reminder fine thank you Chaleal," Solomon grunted in the mocking tone of his brothers' former speech, and with that turned and began to glide back out of the village. Wait up Solomon, " Chaleal said, phrasing in front of Solomon, " I know ya don't like dis celebration but what else can we do!? Dis be what we bin told ta do. Dese be da roles we bin told ta play in dis here society. Darakai, would go crazy if we..." He voice trailed off to a loud noise which sounded like nails scraping a chalkboard. This was not something that usually happened during the celebration. Chaleal and Solomon looked at each other knowingly. Something was definitely about to happen that had never occurred before. "This is bad," Kaleal whispered, as he toke out his sword, "I know", Solomon replied, as he too began to unsheathe his blade, "there bout ta be trouble." "Could it be da outsiders," Kaleal asked, as he began to float quickly toward where the sounds were coming from. "There's only one way ta find out" , Solomon grinned in excitement, as he began floating alongside his brother spirit." Well I da say maybe dis celebration won't be so bad aftil all!"
The Movement Continues...
- Rhetorical Artz
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