“Seeking for truth where truth is nowhere to be found. Can this pursuit be worthy of a man’s life or is it his underdoing?”
This question haunted the young man every night. His master once asked him this in a private consultation many moons ago. At the time, he was still young and thought that such questions that his master asked to test his knowledge in the ancient tradition of their village were outdated as the tradition itself. His village was one of the few that was recognised as “uncivilised”- so said the black man who had occupy the land by the beach.
At first, the village elders fought off any visitors. The first were white in skin colour and one of the elders said that those white beings were the children of the water monster that eat the souls of virgin women. No white coloured man was ever allowed to enter the village.
Later came men of a similar skin tone but with a bit darker hue to their skin with eyes slightly opened. They were mighty. They came from the east of the island where the mountain god spat fire every five years. By the virtue that they conquered the fierce mountain, won the respect and trust of the elders. These men taught the villagers what they taught as Bushido. They helped transform the monastery into a temple that lifted many of the village’s ignorance to many things of the wild. These men taught the village how to create homes that were strong from the use of advance techniques of carpentry. They taught the village many things that made the village stronger and wiser. They wrote those the teachings down. So much so, the lessons of those brave warriors remain with the village even to this today.
About the time the cold arises on our land, as written, a man stood by the beach. He was tall. He held a large shield that stood at the same height as he. He carried two spears with him, one short and the other long. He was a well-built man who commanded attention and authority. So powerful was his statute, even the sun would not dare look him in the eye. He arrived with two beautiful concubines and a short, hunched man. The hunched man walked with a cane to support his figure. This man was the powerful man’s translator. Strange was the fact that no one from our village had ever ran away. The warriors of Bushido had taught our village that is the greatest disloyalty to ever leave a man’s land. So, the elders were perplexed and called the man of the being a witch. It is written that the powerful man stretched his hands wide and yelled for all to be silent. So powerful was his voice, the wind trembled and blew over the homes of the elders who decided to disobey the man’s command. It is written that he do not move from that spot. He told the elders that one day, one of this own would arrive on this land. On that day, he must be given the land that he was standing on. He took his long spear and struck it into the ground. As sudden as he had appeared, he disappeared.
The villagers were confused and enraged. They felt disrespected by the black man. They disregarded his message and went over to pull the spear out. The eldest villager told the rest of the village not to touch that spear. He told the village that out of the rocks that the mountain of fire once spat, there was a man with two concubines on it. He warned the village that it would be of great mistake to touch the spear. The young villagers thought that the old man was drunk and did not know what he was talking about. After all, the rock that he was referring too, the young men of the village, as a rite of passage they go every five years, are required to catch at least two rocks from the mountain god that spat fire. The rocks were a symbol of the wives that the young men will have. The rock that the old man was talking about was a rock that belonged to one of the boys. He was able to catch one rock. It was a large rock so he took the grains of the mountain and engraved them on the rock. He engraved himself between two females, claiming that he was lucky to be given a large rock to write his own destiny. The old man was talking about this rock. So they thought.
The bravest young man got up. He spat a large ball of mucus on the ground to mark his irritation about the situation. He walked to the spear with great valour. He stepped closer. The closer he approached, the heavier was the sand. Yet he pushed on. He got closer. His legs sunk deeper into the sands. He pushed on and finally reached out for the spear. He was already half deep into the sands. The elders were already ordering the other young men to go pull the brave one from the sands. Twelve strong came running up the hill to pull their leader from the sands. It was the first time that this was happening. They rushed as fast as they could. As they were approaching the vintage point to see the spear once more, the brave one was nowhere to be found.
It was written that after that incident that the village never made their way to the spear ever since. It is recorded that the incident happened in the year of the Komodo dragon; the 1800s as told by the black man who calls the village uncivilised. The black man who lives by the spear.