Finding Peace

by Daniel-Gleebits

The Tale of Two Villages

The Tale of Two Villages

“What do you do here?”

Sunset didn’t look away from the pot, where the savoury smell of cooking herbs and tubers was rising. She did momentarily look up at the thin chimney, which rose between the crack of the two embracing stones that stood over her dwelling.

“What I have to,” Sunset replied.

“Still no answers, huh?” Sonata asked, lying in her cot. “Don’t you get bored?”

“I’m usually well enough occupied,” Sunset said, stirring the contents of the pot. “Perhaps if you found something to do, you wouldn’t feel bored yourself.”

“I didn’t say I was bored,” Sonata said, lying back.

A short pause ensued.

“Okay, I’m bored.”

“Does eating alleviate your boredom?”

“Temporarily,” Sonata answered musingly. “But afterwards, I get bored again.”

Sunset surreptitiously rolled her eyes. “Well it doesn’t look like I picked enough from the garden for the stew. Would you mind picking a few more potatoes?”

“Sure!” Sonata said, jumping up eagerly.

Sunset waited for a moment as Sonata rushed out of the door, and then rushed back in.

“Where’s the garden?” she asked. Before Sunset could explain where, the other raised both hands. “No, wait, let me try to find it.”

“No, but—wait—“ Sunset began, frowning. It was too late of course. “She’s going to overexert herself,” she mumbled, shaking her head and returning her attention to the dinner. “Few more of... A little of this...” she muttered to herself, methodically adding a few beans and sliced somethings into the pot.

It took Sonata a full fifteen minutes to come back, panting and looking pale.

“I didn’t find the garden,” she said, faintly. “But I did feel something... in my arm. When I tried to climb up and look around, I think...”

She put her good hand to her head as though trying to steady herself. Sunset stood up, her sharp eyes on the dark stain moving across Sonata’s bandage.

“Foolish girl,” Sunset spat, jumping up.

“N-No, I’m fine, it’s just—“

“Sit down and stop talking,” Sunset said tersely, pushing Sonata gently down onto the cot.

“Am I talking too much again?” Sonata asked, managing an apologetic grin.

“It’s sapping your energy,” Sunset explained. “Just try to relax. What in the world possessed you to go climbing in your state?”

“To see where your potatoes are. I tried it one-handed, so I wouldn’t hurt my shoulder,” Sonata said out of the side of her mouth. “But it still—OW!”

“Try to stay still,” Sunset said, peeling the bandage off. “You’re lucky it’s only opened up a little. Hold this.”

Sonata squeaked and whimpered, but otherwise endured the re-bandaging with commendable stoicism. Sunset applied another poultice, making a mental note to make more, and somehow managed to keep the stew from burning at the same time.

“Do please tell me that you’ll try listening to me in future,” Sunset admonished, communicating her full disapproval with a single raised eyebrow.

Sonata nodded sheepishly, not able to meet her eye.

“I was trying to be helpful,” she said a little plaintively.

“Trying to alleviate your boredom,” Sunset corrected, helping her sit up before handing her a bowl of stew. “You’ll never recover your strength if you keep opening your wound, and you’ll increase your chances of sickness. You have to be aware during this season especially. If you die in my house, I swear I’ll follow you into the afterlife and give you an earful about it.”

Sonata smiled and gave a small chuckle. She tried some of the stew which, whilst good, was rather thin of solid components. She waited for Sunset to carry on chiding her, but when Sunset merely sat down and ate some thin stew as well, Sonata spoke up.

“Aren’t you going to say I shouldn’t let my boredom get the better of me?”

“I have already advised you not to let your curiosity lead you astray,” Sunset answered, holding her own bowl away from her mouth. “I don’t waste my time telling people what they already know. I would just like to say, however, that when your actions inconvenience yourself, you’re at perfect liberty to do as you please. When they affect others, I ask that you show some restraint.”

Sonata glanced down at her new bandage, and felt a fresh wave of guilt rush over her.

“I suppose you’re still bored,” Sunset said knowingly.

“Once I finish this,” Sonata confirmed, gulping down the last of the stew.

“How about a story?”

“You tell stories?” Sonata asked, brightening so much that Sunset leaned back a little. “Just like a real sage!”

“I’m not a sage!” Sunset said through her teeth. “But it was our disagreement over the term that reminded me of this tale.”

“I don’t think that either of us were wrong,” Sonata provided. “We just come from different places with different ideas about it.”

“Indeed. And whilst we’re able to overcome such differences, those in this story did not.”

Sonata sat up a little straighter, gifting Sunset with her full attention. Something she only did once or twice a year. Sunset cleared her throat.

“This is a cautionary tale from my homeland.”

Far to the north, many moons ago, there dwelt two tribes. Once, they had been one tribe, working together to preserve the balance of their lands, for the members of their people were endowed with powerful gifts: The sight of light, and the sight of darkness.

One day, a stranger appeared in the village. This stranger too possessed the gift of dark sight, and inadvertently threw the land into chaos. Storms struck the land, destroying the tribe’s crops and livestock, and damaging many of their dwellings and sacred places. Eventually, together, the tribe calmed the storm, and sent the stranger away.

But the terrible event forever created a rift between the seers of light and darkness. Those with the sight of light saw that it had been an overabundance of the darkness that had brought the storm, and so to avoid ever being troubled by such disaster again, left to form a village of their own.

Those with sight of darkness, always fewer than those of the light, were powerless to stop them leaving. But whereas the followers of light were peaceful and compassionate, the followers of the dark were ruthless and natural warriors. They suffered alone in the old village, with the storms and worse returning as time passed, turning them bitter. They began to identify all of their problems with those of the light leaving, and they plotted revenge.

The seers of light had forged a new village, and it was prosperous and peaceful. Many other tribes gathered about them, and those of the light shared their bounty. But then, those of the darkness came upon them in vengeance, and there was much destruction and death. Furious at what they considered betrayal, those of the darkness could not be placated, and only when those of the light finally fought back were they eventually driven away.

Now that they had chosen to fight, those of the darkness could not defeat those of the light, and those of the light had no desire to attack those of the darkness whilst they posed no threat. Eventually, those of the darkness returned, having forced other tribes to join them, and made war upon those of the light.

Thus their struggle continued, with both sides at one time or another being nearly defeated, but always striking back so that neither side gained an advantage over the other.

One day however, those of the darkness had been struck with unusual fortune, and were in a position to claim victory. It was at this point that several of their number stopped fighting the light, and turned upon each other. Those of the darkness thrived upon battle and blood, and sought glory in victory, for that is the way of the darkness. But the most glory went to their leader, and so those of the darkness began to fight amongst themselves for supremacy.

Those of the light perceived with their gift, the fracture within the darkness, and led a massive charge of their forces against their enemies. Finally, after countless generations, those of the darkness were vanquished. Those they had enslaved to their war effort were released, and the land returned to its state of harmony and peace.

However, those with the sight of light had been changed by the long war. Their gift was as strong as ever, but it had changed, and so had they.

One day, a child of their tribe was born with the sight of darkness.

Today, both villages stand abandoned. Broken and lost, forever avoided by their neighbours, and whispered only as tales for children, and the wise who can learn from the mistakes of both sides.

Sunset was surprised, once she had finished, to see what she interpreted as a look of contemplation on Sonata’s face. She’d really only meant the story to entertain.

“You don’t know any happy stories?” Sonata asked eventually.

Sunset felt herself blushing a little. “I didn’t hear many frivolous stories growing up. All of the ones I was told were supposed to convey a meaning, or a lesson of sorts.”

“I guess all stories do that to some degree,” Sonata said. She smiled wryly. “Got any stories about not climbing trees with injured shoulders?”

Sunset couldn’t help grinning a little. “As a matter of fact, I learned that one quite recently: The tale of the blue monkey of selective hearing.”

Sonata retaliated to this wit by throwing her finished bowl at the story-teller. It hit the wall with a wooden klunk, and skittered off across the floor.

“So, what was the point of that story, anyway?”

Sunset eyebrows arched. She felt a little disappointed.

“Well, obviously, that good must always separate itself from evil. When those of the light interacted with those of the darkness, it caused disaster. And when those of the light adopted the ways of darkness in order to combat them, they slowly became that which they sought to destroy.”

Sunset felt a trickle of unease. Sonata was giving her a most uncharacteristically shrewd look, with her deep magenta eyes slightly narrowed, and boring into her own. Uncertain of what to do, she could only sit there, speared upon the gaze, waiting for Sonata to vocalise what she was thinking.

“Is that why you’re here?” she said finally.

“Is what why I’m here?”

“To escape darkness. Or whatever.”

Sunset’s expression soured a little. “I suppose so. The followers of light initially left their village to seek peace from the chaos of the darkness. In a way, I suppose you could say I’m doing the same.”

“Well, then,” Sonata said, as though tussling with some unwieldy concept. “Why did you leave? You’re smarter than that.”

Sunset blinked. “What do you mean?”

“Well in the story, it was only because the light people left that the darkness people tried to hurt them. You said before that the two of them lived together fine before the stranger appeared and messed everything up.”

“Well, yes,” Sunset conceded. “But the meaning there was that the balance they had was unstable. It only took a little bit of darkness to turn the land to discord.”

“You think so?” Sonata asked, not sounding convinced.

Sunset felt a spark of intrigue. She leaned back against the wall, folding her arms. “Well, what do you think it’s supposed to mean?”

“I don’t know,” Sonata chuntered, seeming embarrassed to suddenly have expectation cast upon her. Sunset prompted her, and finally she said “I kind of thought that it meant that the two should have kept trying to live together. They sent the stranger away and solved the storm problem together. It was only because the light people got scared and left that anything bad happened after that.”

“But the possibility was still there that other strangers might appear and cause problems again,” Sunset countered. “Those of the light understood that they had to separate themselves so as to truly find the peace they naturally sought after.”

Sonata shook her head. “I don’t know if it’s what the story is supposed to mean, but I think they were just running away from their problems.”

“Can you blame them?” Sunset asked, shrugging. “Who wants to live every day with the possibility of natural disasters destroying their homes and food supplies?”

“But didn’t they leave, knowing that without them there, the storms would come back and hurt the darkness people?” Sonata pointed out. “And look at what happened in the end. In the end, they couldn’t escape the darkness. One way or another.”

Sunset frowned, remaining silent for a few moments and staring at the floor. She hadn’t expected the discussion to go this way at all.

“So, what do you think they should have done?”

“Stayed together,” Sonata said, shuffling uncomfortably, as if she thought the answer held some kind of consequence to herself.

“But what about the storms?” Sunset asked seriously. “That was the entire point of them leaving in the first place. What do you think they should have done about them?”

Sonata looked away, fixing her eyes on a succession of objects, as though searching for the right answer amongst Sunset’s possessions.

“I don’t know,” she admitted quietly. “I know they caused a lot of damage, and stuff. But that’s what storms do. And no matter where you go, there’s always going to be storms.”

Sunset was surprised that she felt surprise. She hadn’t felt real, out-of-the-blue uncertainty in quite some time. She followed the train of thought where she thought it was leading.

“So, you think that the storms should have simply been weathered, in order to maintain balance?”

“I guess,” Sonata said, leaning her head one way and then another. “I mean, if the story is supposed to be an analoguemy, then the storms just mean bad things that happen to you. And you can’t stop that. You just have to, you know—“ She paused, rubbing her bandage a little as though to ease stiffness. “You just have to get on with it and stuff.”

“Analogy,” Sunset corrected, but said no more.

In all honesty, she was rather impressed by this view, even if she didn’t agree with it. She hadn’t anticipated Sonata providing such an insightful analysis of the story. Seeing that Sonata was watching her furtively, she smiled.

“I have to admit, you’re more intelligent than I’d usually lend to someone who seems to lack forethought as you do.”

Sonata smiled herself at this humorous little barb, and swung her legs off her cot. “Just because I don’t always think before doing stuff doesn’t mean I’m stupid,” she declared with a smirk. “I usually watch where I’m go—INGOOF!”

With a wooden scraping sound and heavy impact, like a bag of flour hitting cement, Sonata tripped on her thrown food bowl, and landed squarely on her back.

“OW! Ow-ow-ow-ow!” she howled. “My shoulder!”

Sunset sighed.

Author's Note:

Don't worry, that's the last time I'm using the hurt-shoulder gag. I wouldn't use it at all here, but it's important later in the story.

Comments

[NaiadSagaIotaOar]

It's always nice to see Sonata being clever, if in her own slightly simple-minded way. Her viewpoint may be more naive than Sunset's, but I think they both make pretty good arguments, even if I'm inclined to side with Sonata on this one.

[punzil504]

To everything there is a season...

...perhaps the Light/Dark argument is tying it to Celestia and Luna. Light isn't always good, dark isn't always bad, and the Sith aren't the only ones who deal in absolutes.

[Syntoki]

Tribes of Light and Dark, and after all the Darks have left this world another is born among the Light? Interesting. I have to admit, my very first thought is that Sunset may be that child. Not because of any chosen one prophecy, but because of the name she chose for herself. "Sunset" is a time between night and day.(followed shortly by Twilight and Dusk )
Could the whole, ". . .deepest, truest part of myself. . ." be referring to this?
Or maybe the child's identity will be revealed later

On an unrelated note, I remember from way back that you mentioned Peridot and the subsequent smol she was afflicted with. Have you written any SU fics, or thought about it?

[Daniel-Gleebits]

7632895 I've thought about doing SU fanfics, but I'm always been unsure as to whether to do the fun side, or the serious side of it. I did pen a few starter ones, but they never went anywhere, so I left them.

7631954 I'll tell you one thing. Very few other characters, if any, will show up in this story. It's one of the points of the narrative that they are alone together in the plains. Some will be hinted at, or may even speak, but won't be explicitly shown.

7631835 Sometimes you just need a different way of seeing things to have insight. One doesn't necessarily have to be clever to contribute. It's entirely possible that it's Sunset's intelligence that led her to the conclusion she did to the exclusion of others.

7631651 I'm inclined towards that view as well. Although it is accurate in the story that the followers of light were untroubled when they separated themselves from the darkness. I personally take the view that absolute good is a desirable goal, it's just that it's not the world we live in. The followers of the dark represent that reality in the story. There's no getting away from them, not forever, so one might as well embrace them and learn to live with them.