Kindness
Once there was a vast kingdom owned by two children. They would survey their forests of hedgerows and bedding plants with a proud eye. They would grant courteous nods to their insect subjects, gaze fondly upon the hiding rodents, watch the birds with an air of fascination. Serenity reigned in its knowing calm. Days were clear and punctuated by the scent of freshly trimmed grass.
As the old stories teach us, all kingdoms have their time of being invaded. Dark brutes with the sole intent to plunder all that's been carefully cultivated. Disrupters of the peace. In this particular story, the enemy in question is a fearsome foe. He goes by the title of the Black King. His true name is something of occasional whispers under the breath. A cold, callous man of few emotions and a wicked mind.
Now we have that unpleasantness out of the way, let us deal with the heroes of a story. A girl and a boy, sister and brother, elder and younger respectively. They too have titles other than the ones I am about to give but in this tale, as with all their tales, they are the Goddess of Wisdom and the Boy Enchanter.
On to the first of many frays.
On this day, a day that began and middled like every other before it, the Boy Enchanter had discovered a special treat for the inhabitants of the land. A freshly made fruit cake and a jar of plum jam. Delicacies such as this were usually kept under strict lock and key but this day, this lucky day, the seals had been broken. Quick as a whippet, the Boy Enchanter took advantage of the opportunity that had presented itself.
He also made himself known in the Black King's land. For the sweets and preserves belonged to this heartless lord.
He returned to the Goddess of Wisdom with the bounty in tow. However this act of risk and sharing is not the act of kindness. This would become a day known for its generousity and graciousness. The two each took a part of the treasure, leaving some for the others. Jam for the ants and those partial to sweet things. Crumbles of cake for the mice, blackbirds and associates. They feasted well and when about to take their rest with full bellies, a hideous sound cracked the kingdom.
It began as the low rumble of distant thunder, a promise of threats. Our heroes barely had time to attempt scrambling into a hiding place before it was upon them, fierce and striking fire.
Even the most gifted can be let down by their talents. This time the Boy Enchanter had not been able to keep his ventures secret. The Black King descended upon him like a hawk clawing talons into its rabbit prey. Fists connected with flesh, nails raked at skin in blind fury. The animal battle cries made all the creatures skitter into the nearest dark, disguised place. The Boy Enchanter tried to cover himself, to plead for reason and rationality. There was no sense in fighting back; his small frame, not yet matured, would have barely grazed the Black King. All the Goddess of Wisdom could do was beg for mercy and watch as her brother started to turn from healthy pink to black and blue.
Ire spent and punishment delivered, the Black King retreated. Defeated, the Boy Enchanter curled up on the ground, wrapping his limbs around himself in belated protection. Dirt and the coppery taste of blood lingered on his tastebuds as he looked at his land through swollen eyes.
Simple ones tend to be the most moving gestures of all. As soon as the Black King was out of sight, he felt warm arms around him. The easy security lended by a sibling. Despite his wounds, neither could risk another venture into that forbidden territory.
The Goddess of Wisdom tore a slither from her dress, then another. Each wound was carefully attended and bandaged. The blood was wiped from his cheeks, lips, hands. All the places the skin had been split or the blood had trickled to. The skirt ended up in tatters and the brother looking like a patchwork doll. She placed a kiss on his forehead to complete her treatment and wrapped him up in a gentle hug. And there they say together, in silence, brother's head on sister's shoulder, sister's arm looped around her brother.
The undeniable tenderness. He caught the checking glances she kept throwing his way. Smiled at the brief squeezing of his hand. The humble bond of safekeeping between siblings. The uncomplicated reassurance of children. They are pure in their cruelty, and equally pure in their kindess.