Noriko Rei
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Posted - 2008.09.30 02:07:00 -
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Please excuse me, as I am not much for telling tales, but my father used to take me on his lap when I was younger and speak of our people with fervent reverence...
Ages ago, before the Federation marked its boundaries among the stars, the Sang Do lords of the Jin-Mei people fought bitterly over mere parcels of land, dividing them amongst their subjects of the lower castes. One such warrior had claimed for himself a vast nation, stretching from sea to sea, and he was seated upon a great throne, with many governors in his land.
His wealth surpassed only by his vanity, he commissioned a scribe in the third year of his reign to chronicle each day of his life, that his children's children's children would know of his greatness and aspire to be the same. The scribe dutifully penned each day's events, and it pleased his Sang Do master to build a library to house the pages of his life.
It came to pass in the seventh year of chronicles that a severe famine came over the land, and militias raided neighboring provinces for food. As governors fought between themselves to survive, the Sang Do lord turned a blind eye and deaf ear to their plight, satisfied in his own opulent splendor, never lacking for anything. The scribe's heart, however, was with the people.
As his lord kept court one morning, the scribe was seen sitting idle, not bothering to record a single word. The Sang Do was particularly displeased, demanding to know why the scribe neglected his duty.
Ever humble, the chronicler bowed low and replied, "If it pleases my lord to know, each day is no different than the last. Every morning my lord awakes and consults his mirror, with which he is greatly pleased, and each night my lord retires, confident that he is a wise and just ruler, regardless of what has transpired between."
Enraged, the Sang Do ordered his scribe beheaded, appointing a new writer to take his place. With trembling hands and a fearful heart, this new scribe recorded the rest of the day, lest he forfeit his life, as well.
The following morning, the lord of the house arose and proceeded to his mirror, as was his custom, but he did not see what he always saw, therefore he turned his back and fled the dreadful image. Coming to his library, he requested the previous day's writings. The clear strokes of the morning pen read:
"My lord has awakened and is very pleased to admire his own virtue."
...followed by the nearly illegible scribblings of the afternoon...
"My lord has broken his mirror, for it has shown him that he is remiss in his duty, and I fear that I shall not cast such a clear reflection, lest my fate should be the same. The crackling flames of the funeral pyre echo the lament of the people, and my lord retires early; he is quite displeased, yet with whom I cannot say."
The Sang Do neatly folded the paper, taking it with him from the library. From that day, he restored his land to prosperity with the same resolve by which he had claimed it, loving his people as his own children, that they should enjoy the blessings of his good fortune as much as any of his sons that might sit on his throne.
He charged his scribe to write an account of the nation each day, and every morning he would read the past day's chronicle as an honest reflection of himself.
...so my father tells me to this day that as long as I am healthy and happy, he is very much pleased with the man he sees in the mirror.
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