Kthaahthikha

I shall tell you the tale my forefathers told me, of a hot northern city where merchants thrived, on the shores of a cobalt sea.

It was in this city that a young man dwelt, the son of a dealer in curios and oddities. The old man had done fine business in the dark days, before ships from Persia and Indochina became almost-unbearably mundane. But he had died poor of illness, and left to his child only one case of jade ornamental eggs.

Upon receiving this inheritance the young man was furious, for many hard times had been gone through as he scrabbled for work in the slums of the city, whilst here in this case were fortunes enough to keep a prudent man his entire life. His father had left no instructions for the treatment of these eggs, and so it was that the young man decided to sell them piecemeal to a jeweller, and live-out his life carefully upon the proceeds.

Having observed the eggs closely, glistening slick and green, he made to close the case tight. Alas, his elbow jarred the table, and one of the jewels was knocked from its velvet seat onto the table, from which it rolled and shattered upon the ground. The young man was horrified that such a treasure had been wasted, and cursed himself for his carelessness. However, he had commenced doing so only a moment when their rose from the shards of the egg a gigantic, hideous jinni, which hissed and writhed and thrashed about like a serpent in a cloth bag. The young man fell at once upon his knees in terror, and the jinni observed him with a baleful eye. Yet rather tan kill him, the jinni opened wide its mouth, and spoke a single sentence of such undisputable wisdom that the young man forgot his terror, and wept in awe at the beauty of it.

Having spoken, the jinni at once vanished.

The young man was astounded at the circumstances that had befallen him. Unsure of what had just passed, and drunk upon the knowledge imparted to him, he fell into a dead faint. Upon recovery he determined to test another of the eggs, (but only one), and upon doing so he found yet another jinni before him, hissing and writhing in agony until it spoke its own word of absolute and wondrous wisdom.

The young man meditated upon the things told him, and with a pen and parchment at hand he shattered the remaining ten eggs and recorded the wisdoms that were unveiled before his eyes. This young man, possessed before of only a rugged practicality, became now a distinguished philosopher and rose in power and influence through societal ranks. Peasants and emperors came before him to ask his advice, and never would he turn the one of them away. So grateful were his supplicants that they fed and bathed and housed him, and he lived a comfortable life at the university, advising scholars with his guided observations.

When several years had passed, the great Caliph summoned the young man to his presence. He asked after the source of the young man’s wisdom, but what he was told the Caliph refused to believe that there were indeed no more enchanted jade eggs. He imprisoned the young man’s beloved in a silk-lined dungeon, and demanded that further eggs be brought within three year’s time, or else the young woman would perish and the young man be banished from all the Caliph’s realms on pain of death.

The young man set-out southward, traversing vast grasslands and wading through steam-clouded swamps. He breasted towering mountains encased in ice and lashed by snow, and cut his way through jungles where gryphons and goblins lurked. From a river boat merchant he learnt of Azifal the wise, and from Azifal he learnt of the caverns in the ice-bound south across the sea.

He boarded a ship and sailed, risking storm and reef, and after a year’s journey he came to a fog-shrouded cavern, and crossed swords with a triple-headed knight who rode upon a venomous worm. His foe bested, he penetrated the cavern, and found at its heart a single jade egg, identical in every way to all the others, resting upon an altar carved with the nine billion names of god.

His quest fulfilled, the young man returned triumph to his city by the sea. He arrived on the last day of the third year, and came before the Caliph dressed in tattered rags and followed by a procession of curious observers. The Caliph took the egg, welcoming the young man with warm words, and before his ten thousand scribes flung it to shatter upon the ground.

The five shards of the jade shell rattled upon the floor, and though all waited many ours nothing ever did emerge. From his cell high in the eastern tower, the young sage reflected upon the events.

I have no idea if this will make the kind of sense I want it to, so please let me know if it doesn't.

Well, if you were trying to be didactic, it hasn't worked. But this is a really neat piece. I love the way the last sentence is like an underline of the whole.

Curses. Still, perhaps it shall serve my purpose even better by dint of this. The story wouldn't work out of context, anyway, as if I ever use it it will be as a bookend to several other stories of "greater" merit, illustrating how just because some of the stories had meaning, some of them might not, and people might have been hunting in vain. So the fact that this seems meaningless would be a satisfactory joke.

If that makes any sense, you're a wiser one than I.

"So the fact that this seems meaningless would be a satisfactory joke."

That makes sense - I do it all the time :D

Whoa... now what kind of sense did you want it to make?
Kindra reminded me of 10 commandments...

Wht a pity tho... the 11th didnt come out to save our protagonist.... But it's very interesting... you should, hoever, detail the process of the quest... built it up some more before you deliver the punch...
very cool.

@Aisha - if he had built the story up some more, I think it might have lost out on the hilarity of the ending!

hmmm maybe. its a great piece nevertheless.
tom- Dude, you got something good going!!

OK, I did like this story, so I'll take the opportunity to nitpick.

Simply calling the young man 'the young man' is a little awakward at times. A name would not be out of place for him, because repating that phrase in nearly every sentance at times gets pretty cumbersome.

While I know you're using a purposely archaic tone, it gets pretty stilted and less-than-pretty at times: 'Upon receiving this inheritance the young man was furious, for many hard times had been gone through as he scrabbled for work in the slums of the city, whilst here in this case were fortunes enough to keep a prudent man his entire life.' Is somehow a not very pleasing sentence. Too mannered?

The introuduction of a 'beloved' comes out of nowhere. I'm not asking for a big lovey subplot, but you could have slipped this detail in into the previous passage where you detail his new life of comfort.

The ending does't bear any hilarity in my mind - it just shows that perilous quests are sometimes futile, and I can see how you'd want to slip that into a sequence of tales where the rewards for the protagonist are greater.

Still, if the protagonist has been exposed to the wisdom of 12 jade eggs, his actions don't seem especially wise. This is just me, but the story could esily have gone differently:

With all the wisdom of the 12 Jade Eggs, the young man saw that the 13th egg held nothing but dissapointment and doom for him. His fortune, his palace and his beloved were already as good as lost. He pondered on these matters many times as he sat in the fog-shrouded cafern, meditating...

Touche. Of course, he only had the wisdom of the eggs. he didn't have any of his own. He was just parroting.

I also agree it's not funny. It's not supposed to be, but Bean seemed to think it was for some reason. And I was writing it as a simple fairy-tale, after all.

Still, valid criticisms all.