(Note: If you don't want to read the whole thing, at least read the poem at the end. I kinda like it. whee )
No one really knows how it started, where it started, or even why it started. All anybody knows is that once it did, things happened quickly. Supplies were brought in from all over the land, to be stored in the Great Chamber. All of a sudden, the Great Palace was closed off, when before it had been open to the world. Worst of all, though, a feeling of dread was spread over the forest.
This is very interesting (well, okay, depressing) but let’s rewind a little bit. Let’s go back to before what is known today as the “Great Abasement” (though why it is called that is as great a mystery as its cause). We’ll go back to the time when all of the land was at peace, kindness abounded, and a having a “bad day” meant that you were feeling lethargic.
The island of Ahsmi had been at peace for twenty-two millennia. Its coast was surrounded by beautiful sandy beaches, and inland forests thrived. Animals of land, sky, and water prospered there, and so did the other inhabitants.
Ahsmi was ruled by the Queen and the Four Princesses. Each race had its representative princess. Each princess ruled very differently from the others, according to their own personal beliefs and values, abilities, and the needs of their own individual peoples.
The eldest of the princesses was Harmony of the Elves. Graceful and prestigious in all she did, she was easily the most intelligent of the four, with a no-nonsense attitude she left go of only in the presence of her family. The elves themselves, with their pointed ears and severely slanted eyebrows, may have looked exactly like her in all respects, from their extreme height to their leanly muscular arms and legs, yet none had her presence that there was just something special about her. Even though she shunned the royal dress when she could and went among the populace dressed in the commoner’s clothes of soft, but snug, black breeches and a sleeveless, black leather jerkin, she had an imperial air to her so that she far from blended in.
The second oldest of the girls was Symphony of the Merpeople. Though the quietest of princesses, she always managed to get her point across whenever she opened her mouth. The mermaids, with their enchanting songs, rivaled the faeries in beauty. All add tails of aquamarine and turquoise that shimmered in the light. Though the women knew of the fisherman’s tale that they went around topless (the men actually did), and often wondered what would happen if they did (Symphony never allowed any suggestions for this to go any farther than idle speculation), the maidens had woven tops from strands of seaweed to serve as their own type of low-cut, sleeveless tunic. Each morning at dawn and evening at dusk, they would begin their mantra, interweaving their lovely voices to form a keening none could resist. Symphony herself had a particularly glorious voice, and often sang solos during their hour-long chant. It was perhaps for this reason that all quieted when she opened her mouth, for it was never known exactly when she might burst into song.
Second youngest, and by far the most enthusiastic, was Melody of the Faeries. The faeries were a buoyant race as it was, but Melody went beyond the happiness that most faeries exhibited. She wore nothing but yellow for her dresses, which was said to be the happiest of colors, and was never seen without a smile. Even the time she broke her arm as a consequence of being foolish with her air magic resulted in no more than a loss of the sight of her teeth, her lips were still curled up, and the twinkle stayed in her eyes as she simply healed it with another drop of magic. She was also the one her older two sisters doted on. Her adorable beauty made all who met her love her, as well as her maddening drive to heal the world.
Youngest of the Four Princesses was Dryana of the Pixies. While the others were –in the strange ways of magic and the unknown– triplets, and thus had names grouped them tighter in their bond as rulers, Dryana was alone in her birth. If that wasn’t bad enough, the pixies themselves were low on what was comically called the “food-chain.” Even the faeries attempted to deny their distant cousinship to them. None of the other races liked the mischievous little pixies. Always up to trouble, they were often at the source of some kind of commotion within their people. Dryana was no exception. She encouraged the behavior of her people, even to the point of helping them outright in their pranks. Their tiny size allowed them to get away with things that the normal-sized other races couldn’t do.
None of the princesses could top their queen, however. Queen Aura was more than a hybrid. She was a “managerid.” She had the scaled tail of the merpeople, the wings of a faerie, the ears and eyebrows of an elf, and even a bit of the mischievous nature of the pixies. No one questioned Aura. This may have been one of the reasons for the “Great Abasement.” For it was during this time that Queen Aura went to a grand gathering of the queens.
There are many debates about what actually happened during this period of decline, but there are a few facts that all agree on. The greatest, and most important, was the exile of the pixies. No one knows why, but one day Dryana was in the palace, and the next, she wasn’t. It was then that the Great Palace closed, and the remaining Three Princesses called for supplies to be brought in. From that day ‘til the end, they were never seen again.
Rumor had it that Dryana had plotted against the other princesses, planning to disrupt the annual Giving Festival, during which all the inhabitants of the Ahsmi Island exchanged gifts. The festival was only two weeks from then –and two weeks later, no gifts were to be seen. From what they heard from the palace servants, the three princesses were living in isolation from each other, and none were inclined to come out.
All the people –elf, faerie, and merfolk– were afraid and downhearted. They loved their royalty, and wanted to emulate them. In this case, however, it meant they had to refrain from the exchange of presents this year.
The months went by, and no change was brought on the winds. That was when the next rumor popped up: there was a lack of gifts to give, which was why their princesses hadn’t exchanged them; they knew their people would follow suit.
This threw the people of Ahsmi into a frenzy. A lack of gifts? Why, that meant they should surely keep their own presents to themselves. What if they ran out? So all over the island, in land, sea, and air, all the people kept their things for their own, fearing that would never see gifts again.
More time went by, until the Giving Festival came again. The people waited with bated breath to hear even a whisper that all was well, and they could give again. Those who could write sent letters to the palace, asking the royalty if things would be okay this year. No replies came, and another festival went by in sorrow.
So this is how the Great Abasement progressed over the years. For five years it went on, with people growing more and more covetous and greedy each day. As their greed increased, the number of pleas for the return of the Giving Festival declined. Then… then came the Charitable Child.
Another mystery of this time is the Charitable Child. The Child’s gender is unknown, as is their age, status, and race. All that is known of this kind soul is that are the undisputed champion is this terrible age.
The first morning in the week long Giving Festival, along with the ever decreasing number of letters to the princesses, three small packages appeared on the steps of the Great Palace, to be collected and distributed by the servants.
It was later reported that as each princess received her package and torn it open, that they read the following, threw open the doors to the Grand Palace, and went door to door, giving all a bouquet of flowers that had the same message that had been given to them, and proclaiming that this would be the dawn of a new era in the area of giving.
If those who give get nothing back,
Will they not be the ones who lack?
Yet the generous receive something so much more,
Then toys or candy from a store.
It cannot be bought, nor sold for profits,
For it’s worth more than gold or garnets.
This feeling of goodness, of generosity,
Is a lifelong feeling that never gets musty.
Will they not be the ones who lack?
Yet the generous receive something so much more,
Then toys or candy from a store.
It cannot be bought, nor sold for profits,
For it’s worth more than gold or garnets.
This feeling of goodness, of generosity,
Is a lifelong feeling that never gets musty.
