[ Kinnara of the Bulls ]
“Bring me the flower of everlasting youth.” The
great king commanded, his voice booming at the
scarcely clothed man before him now looking
ragged with fatigue and dressed in all manners
of chains, wearing many wounds of torture on
his body.
“Nay.” The chained man replied, his eyes raising
to meet the king in neither defiance nor aggression.
He said what he said matter of factly.
“You *will* bring me the Alakapuri Flower, young
Kinnara!” The royal man snarled, pounding his
jeweled fist against his throne in a fierce display
of superiority.
“I will not.” The man frowned back at the king
without so much as even flinching from his demands.
“Then I will send your family to the next life.”
The king casually sat back in his chair, now calm
and stoic. “And I will find another one who will.”
This time the chained man bowed his head in defeat,
and the king smiled thinking he had won the prize
of his coorporation.
“I cannot.” He said next, earning only more ire
from the king, mistaking his answer for unwillingness.
“So be it.” The king waved his hand and in an single
instant the life the chained Kinnara once knew was
gone.
His wife and child were executed, and the king did
not give him the mercy of death to join them. But
instead, had the broken Kinnara condemned to slave
in his fields as a servant with intent to make the
man live with his decision and the knowledge that
lives had been lost because *he* refused.
The Kinnara cried his eyes the first five days and
five nights, the loss haunting him in every sense.
He grew numb to the pain, knowing he could not
serve Kubera like this, he had succeeded as a Kinnara
but failed as a husband and as a father.
The Kinnara slave begged Kubera for mercy where
the king would not, and Kubera did not answer his
plea. His frustration only grew as his faith was
tested.
Solemnly he worked the fields in soulless fashion,
his eyes empty, empty, empty. Thinking he was
abandoned.
His heart twisted now, the Kinnara turned to a very
dreadful vengeance, thinking he had been betrayed
and left to the crows by the very one he served.
He would have his revenge, and the king was not to
blame!
Suddenly the Kinnara began to work a furious pace
with a passion at mind. He worked all his skills
of trade and treasure with the guards, soon making
friends of them all!
Though they could not help him much because of the
king, they managed to move him from the unforgiving
fields to a more comfortable one minding the king’s
cattle.
There he tended to the bulls, making sure their hide
was sleek, their bellies fat, and their muscles
strong!
The Kinnara of the bulls never forgetting the vow
of revenge in his heart, he continued to slave at
his duties with diligence. Diligence not meant for
the king, but to one day return to the northern
mountains and find Kubera again.
He had no weapons, the king would not trust him near
one and the guards dare not spare him any! He did
not know where to begin his escape, but he knew he
only that he *will*.
The vengeful Kinnara lay to sleep that evening, his
mind recollecting fonder days with his family before
he drifted to black.
There he dreamed a strange dream! He stood before a
towering tree of golden leaves! From it a serpent
dangled from one of its branches, looking at him
with two beady eyes.
“I know what it issss that you sssseek…” the snake
also a bright color of gold hissed to him with its
forked tongue flickering.
The Kinnara narrowed his eyes. “You know nothing,
Snake!”
“Is that sssso?” The golden snake chuckled at him
and then split into three! The three snakes braided
together in a pattern!
One gold, one silver, one copper!
They split apart from one another and went their
separate ways, forming together a smiling mongoose
before disappearing.
The Kinnara suddenly wake from his dream, holding
hand to his head! He smiled and realized the snake
did help him after all!
He began secretly working the hide of the bulls to
craft himself a whip! He secretly practiced time and
time again!
Catching branches at night! Whipping wooden bowls
into his hand! And sometime dangling himself from
high places to test the strength of the whip under
his weight.
“I will find you now, Kubera!” He grinned and began
to plot his escape!
He knew all the guards so well now, he knew when
they changed shift, when they moved, and studied all
their strengths and weaknesses!
He carefully moved in the darkness of night, very
careful that no one catches him. There was always
one guard that is very merry, but often very drunk
during the evenings!
Climbing a tree, the Kinnara moved swiftly but he
was not swift enough! The guard, though drunk had
caught him in his act and armed himself!
“Stop right there!” He shouted and brandished his
sword at him. The Kinnara drawing his whip from his
side lashed the blade out of the guards hand!
Not thinking twice about running! He had lost his
chance at a real weapon, but he knew sparing even
a second against a trained guardsman would cost
him dearly. And he had lost far too much already.
He then set forth for the woods where the trees
were thick and unkind! He fell into the darkness
and waited for the clanging of metal boots to pass
before he even so much as taken a breath!
Three days and three nights he endured the terrible
pursuit of the king. His only possessions, the whip
and the clothes on his back.
The first night, a guard caught him hiding in the
shadows and attacked him! He barely moved in time
and strangled the man with the whip and fled before
the rest had arrived.
The second night he knelt by a rushing river,
desperate with thirst when another guard caught him!
This time the guard rode a horse and he knew there
was no way to outrun him.
He leapt over the stones to evade but the horse only
galloped over them! The Kinnara without thinking
cracked the whip at the horse! Startling it as the
snapping sound and a bright light came from it! The
horse reared back and threw the guard into the river
that swept him away!
The third night, the Kinnara found his way along the
opposite direction of the river in hopes of a village.
There he found a bridge with its rope cut, and the
other side was too steep for him to leap safely.
Many armed men closed in around him and he ran! He
did not run far before he was trapped to the edge.
Right then a large branch with golden leaves reached
out to catch his eye from the other side. He leapt
and lashed his whip forward, praying to all that he
knew without even thinking twice, the whip safely
wrapped around the branch and swung him over away
from the danger!
Finally the Kinnara made it to the safetly of a
faraway temple! There he met a kind monk who asked
nothing of him, nothing about him, but only fed him,
clothed him, and gave him a small pouch of coin to
be on his way.
He furrowed his brows, not understanding the monk,
but did not question. He could not refuse this, and
he had a task to complete. To find Kubera again.
Weaving old roads, the Kinnara listened to the wind
as he always did! His heart knew the way to Kubera’s
treasure house only too well.
Nothing stood in his way now… he gripped the whip
tightly in his hand with white knuckles, taking the
first step forth up the treacherous mountain.
Each step of a hundred, he recounted his memories.
Each step of a thousand, he questioned his motives.
He did know what he could possibly do to a god, but
at the very least he would have his answer before
his end! That much the Kinnara knew he would make
sure of.
When he finally broke the thick mist of the peaks,
he found the treasure house waiting for him as if
it had been any other day.
Everyone greeted him as if he never left, he passed
them without a word and went to find his lord.
“Kubera! Your servant demands your presence!” He
shouted before a pair of finely adorned doors that
blocked his path.
He no longer cared about how he carried himself, and
the lack of honey in his words.
“Now!” He shouted once more and the doors swung open
for him golden light!
He laid his eyes upon Kubera himself, the very shine
around him stinging his vision. He squinted but did
not relent.
“Why! Why, my Lord?! Why did you abandon me?!” His
expression was a mix of agony and fury.
“My faithful Kinnara, you have served me for so
long.” The calm voice replied to him, it was very
powerful, but very still like the very mountain
around them.
“I have! And this is how you repay me?!” The young
man lashed out, the whip cracking in his hands!
“I was not the one who had claimed your wife and
child, and it was not my decision.” The voice was
sad in response, the Kinnara knew it was the truth
but he still refused to accept it.
“Then what about me?! I was left to rot at the
hands of the king!” He argued this.
“And now you are not.” Kubera’s voice rang in his
ears, kindly and sounding as if he knew something
the Kinnara did not.
The whip in his hands once again took the form of
three serpents! They untangled themselves from him
and took the form of a mongoose that swiftly found
its seat again within Kubera’s hand.
The light around Kubera faded to reveal the image
of the simple monk that helped him back at the
temple!
And the room in which the god stood was lined with
golden trees, much like the ones he had seen many
a time, and the ones that saved him from certain
death.
The god smiled sadly at his Kinnara.
And the Kinnara wept!
He had never been alone! The god had watched him
suffer and had suffered with him. Kubera helped
him from afar, and helped him find his way home!
Kubera could not meddle in human affairs directly,
and instead showed his servant the way.
The whip serving as the key. The mongoose and the
serpents both one and the same!
“The Kinnara of the Bulls” claimed his place once
again by Kubera’s side and for the first time in
months, began his path to healing.
The jest of his nickname had never left him, nor the
whip that was wrapped by his side. He was stubborn
as a bull, and his weapon only befitting him!
The story of this trickled down from the house of
Kubera into the Merchant guild, where it was adopted
as a new weapon and a sign of Kubera’s favor. His
protection and guidance for those that followed him!
It is said that when a Merchant most desperately
seeks help in the time of danger and desperation,
that Kubera will lend his hand! You need only reach!
The whip is the key to reaching all hands of fortune.
|/, for K’uu(ruru)