There aren't many songs and tales as old and tired as those of stone. Stories from our earthen brothers often tell us the deeper notes which man has not felt in millennia. Stone speaks slowly.
This is a story of a Great Stone; the King of Mountains...
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The last family photo taken which includes both King Mountain and King Plains.
At his skirt, King Mountain had his brother, King Plains. They were different. King Plains stretched into the infinite horizon, whereas King Mountain rose to the endless beyond.
King Mountain was sometimes jealous of King Plains, for he could not move, and could only see up to the sky, and down to his brother.
King Plains could reach, stretch, ebb, and flow across all that is and all that ever was. In this sense, they were different.
King Mountain was happy. Above him and his brother was the Sky. King Mountain would often wonder if the Sky was also alive.
"Brother," said King Mountain, "what if the Sky breathes as we do, stretches as we do, and talks as we do?"
"Brother," said King Plains, "if the sky was alive surely it would talk to us. Something so vast cannot hide whether it is alive or not. Do not worry about these things."
King Mountain was not content with his brother's answer. To creatures of smaller size, an eternity would pass. For the two Kings, it was but a mere ten thousand years until next they spoke on the matter.
"Brother," said King Mountain, "I really do think that the Sky lives. I am closer to her, so I would know better, and I see that she is alive! She breathes, stretches, and ebbs just like you, but spans to the great cosmos much like me. And unlike both of us, she cries oceans. I refuse to believe that she isn't alive anymore."
"Brother," said King Plains, "though you may be closer to it, your judgement is cloudy*. I have seen the sky in many places, and it is as dead here as it is there." King Plains gestured to the hills which King Mountain would be able to see.
King Mountain was unhappy with how obstinate his brother was behaving. It was not behavior fit for a King, truly. He would let the matter rest, and approach the issue from a different angle. He was always more diplomatic than his brother. And so, for the small creatures, a large amount of time passed. Whereas for the large creatures it was, at most, only a medium amount of time depending on their size.
"Brother," said King Mountain, "look up above. What do you see?"
There was no response.
"Brother," said King Mountain, "why do you ignore me? Are you still angry since I insist that the Sky lives?"
There was no response. It would take a long time for King Mountain to realize that King Plains had been killed. The small creatures had committed the unforgivable act of regicide. King Plains was no more, and in his place stood Jesters of homes, farms, castles, and skyscrapers.
King Mountain wept, boulders fell and crushed hikers. He understood why the Sky was silent. She had no one to talk to. The Land was slain. They both wept.
*: This is where the term 'clouded judgement' originated from.
