how we became ;
curates of the fire
*memoirs of a fire lord*
Once upon a time one of my ancestors went hunting, but luck was not on his side, there was no game to be found. He ventured further than he had ever gone before and got lost. Hungry and forlorn he tried to find familiar landmarks as he struggled along with near exhaustion. Eventually he ended up at a strange strange village guided there by an even stranger pillar of smoke billowing out from its center like an ominous beacon
……
The villagers where really friendly for they hardly got visitors as their location was rather obscure and shrouded in secrecy. They welcomed him with water for his parched throat, rest for his weary feet and a feast. They served him a meal, smiling, they watched him, as he eyed the steaming food curiously, his thoughts his own , “so be it”, he thought and took a bite.
It was a meal that tasted of the warmth of the sun and heavens. The meat felt like an animal fished from the bowels of a volcanic ocean, definitely a meal for the Gods.
So nervously he asked the smiling men, “Are you Gods and if yes am I departed?”
You must understand this where he came from they ate their food au naturel, served their meat raw and bloody. So his first cooked meal had him perplexed, naturally, its warmth, its rich smoky flavor, for there is nothing that compares to your first bite of a flame-grilled succulent steak, when all you used to is a fresh kill like a lion on a rampage, leaving you with a bloody smile.
So thus he asked, “are you Gods or demonic fiends and am I dead”
The strangers laughed and replied “we are neither Gods nor demons but mere mortal forms such as you only blessed with a special secret”
He asked for their secret and so they told him…
One summer many moons ago, the sky kingdom had a terrible quarrel, thunderous drumming and shooting bolts of power from the heavens, one of the bolts struck the tree-that-has-no-name which was at the center of their village homestead. It caught fire and nearly razed their village to the floor, what could they do but watch, for you see when the elephants fight it is the grass which gets trampled….
Meanwhile as they were cleaning up after the fire they gathered round the still flaming tree-with-no-name and discovered that the tree had fallen onto a wild beast transformin it into a burning carcass. Someone was brave enough to pull off a piece of the meat and taste it, their lives were never the same.
Eventually they learnt how to domesticate the flames, guardians were appointed to feed it wood make sure it smouldered forever, kindle it into flames when required.
Each family could take embers to their own private fire spits and have their little fire to cook by and douse afterwards but the central fire always glowering, eternally.
After a couple of days of rest he broke the news, over their evening fireside chat that he was ready to journey back to his own people, if the villagers would be so kind as to help him with directions and a glowing splint to take with him his kinsmen would trade generously, they granted him an escort and safe passage, for the following morning but declined the latter, told him their secret they would not part with whatever the price..
In the middle of the night he crept to the great fire and picked up a strongly glowing amber and placed it into a shell of a snail, then he stole into the forest and buried it in a shallow hole, stealthily he went back into the village and went to sleep.
In the morning he was escorted through the forest till he got into familiar territory then his escort , before they turned back searched him, finding nothing, bid him safe journey and turned back, he waited till they had disappeared into the horizon before retracing his steps, then to the place he had buried the secret , he dug it out and it was still smouldering, although weakly he blew it back to life,igniting it into a flame, he raced back home
He was treated to a heroe’s welcome for they had feared him dead now he was the village champion, asked of his exploits he narrated how he had dined with the Gods and they granted him a boon of their dragon breath..
They would not keep their flame secret they lit it for all kingdoms sharing their knowledge and so thus they became known as the Lords of the fire….
He became their great chief And knowledge of the true origin of the fire he passed onto his children and them onto the next, from generation to generation, and this is our story, our secret, my story, my secret…
Reblogged this on – RedHuman – and commented:
We all share the same roots, grounded in traditional past.
Thank you for writing words on paper. Cheers and be well.
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steeped in tradition ….
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…..and i do ever so like to be read 🙂
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you make me wanna trace where I originate from. maybe one chance we could be related. lol ( your kinda lol not mine)
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lol related or same person
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You shouldn’t worry about not being read because you have a way of drawing the reader into your world – amazing. I’m so glad I found your blog!
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thank you Steph ^_^
means a lot _ you are a star 🙂
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I may have heard this folk story before, but never so dynamic…
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The story is the same one you know ^_^
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Wow! Well secrets always come to light somehow. Thanks for sharing yours. Bravo
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this is like electronic diary lol
~B
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Wow! You’re such a good story teller! This is so good! The way you tell the story makes it so intriguing!
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Thank you…. This story is particularly special to me ^_^
~B
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Awww! I can tell by the great way you told it!
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^_^
~B
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😁❤️
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