The Seven Kingdoms (1)
Reading time: 9 Minutes
Prologue
1.
Once upon a time yet not that long ago, Andy was staring with half an eye at his monitor-wall in one of the faraway-hidden IT offices of Goldman Flex, one of the biggest and most powerful financial institutions the world had ever seen. As observation was one of the main aspects of his job, a big amount of his time consisted of staring, staring, and staring, which, if it hadn’t been for his drawings, would have certainly caused him to mimic mental patients in a 19th century mental asylum: rocking backward and forward on his chair while simultaneously drooling and chanting glossolalia.
A gentle buzzing came from the walls of monitors which filled the 300 square ft. office where, besides Andy, the only other living being was a large moth he and his colleagues had named Phil. For some reason Phil was born in the wrong body because only cats are supposed to have nine lives, yet Phil had used them all – and then some. He had become a welcome distraction of the monotony of staring at monitors in anticipation of any illegal movements in the bank’s digital environment, particularly since most hours in the day the office was manned by only one person. Budget cuts, you know.
It faintly resembled the Mona Lisa, yet the background was urban and she wasn’t smiling. Actually her face resembled more that of a bulldog, or Hillary Clinton, he wasn’t sure about that yet. Nevertheless he was not unsatisfied, for it had captured the spirit of his grandmother who had passed away recently, and for whom he had carried great affection. Contrary to her physical appearance, she had been a gentle soul, but with a sharp eye.
“Son,” she had told him not long before passing on into the next realm, “many have trouble finding their meaning in life. Without meaning, life becomes purposeless, and the lack of direction that follows leads to boredom and a feeling of emptiness which then needs to be filled with entertainment in any way, shape or form, in order to give one the idea that life has some kind of meaning. Yet entertainment can only fill one’s perceived psychic void for so long, and when pleasure has been utilized beyond its usefulness, the logical next desire becomes pain, because it’s better to feel something than to feel nothing at all. Therefore boredom, ultimately, leads to destruction and war.”
On Andy’s question where to find meaning, she had replied:
“Son, you only have to open your eyes and ears.” Despite his efforts, that had been the last she had said about it. Two weeks later, she was dead.
As he stared at the drawing, a faint flickering light from the far right of his peripheral view drew his attention. It was a yellow alarm light indicating a minor problem might be at hand. Annoyed for having been disturbed from his reflections, he pushed his wheeled office chair towards the flickering light to see what was going on, when all of a sudden Phil passed right before his eyes, to which a yell escaped his mouth and he almost knocked himself and the chair over.
“Phil, come on man!” he spoke harshly to the moth, all the while recapturing his balance while trying to make his way over to the flickering light. “Oh blast!” as he saw the coffee stain on his nearly white T-shirt, and reflected on the thought that keeping a full coffee cup in one’s hands while wheeling over in one’s office chair with a moth the size of a bat flying around, might not be the wisest of strategies to pursue.
In two minutes the supposed problem appeared to be no problem at all and with a sigh Andy turned the light off, while staring at Phil who had seated himself next to a few flyers on a desk nearby.
“What?” Andy heard himself saying out loud. “Why?” Surprised at his own sounds, he now seriously began to wonder if he was going mad, for his words were uttered in the conviction that Phil had just told him to come over to take a look at the flyers. That feeling did not diminish when he heard Phil say:
“Because here you’ll find what you need.”
As Andy approached, the moth didn’t move but turned until his nose pointed in the direction of a stack of what appeared to be holiday flyers.
Andy picked up the top one, which showed a photograph of a white, bounty beach, with neon yellow letters proclaiming: ‘The Caribbean as you’ve never seen it before!’ and on the bottom in smaller print: ‘Norwegian Cruises, holidays in style’. Andy looked at Phil. Phil didn’t speak or move.
The next one was covered by the Eiffel Tower, and advertised a three week all-inclusive holiday through Europe. Again Phil didn’t show any sign of enthusiasm, and Andy began to wonder what on earth he was doing.
The third flyer had a square form which was divided into four smaller squares. The top left showed a crown, the top right a magic wand, the bottom left an old style weighing scale, and the bottom right a scythe, while the text in the middle read: ‘Find your purpose in The Seven Kingdoms. Your life will never be the same again…’
Phil was suddenly hopping up and down before he began to fly circles around Andy’s head, after which he returned to the desk in order to jump up and down again.
“Yes, yes, I hear ya, well, see ya.” Andy said aloud. Turning the flyer over, it only said: ‘The only vacation where meaning is handed to you on a silver platter,’ followed by an email address.
“So you think I should do this?” Frantic jumping up and down. “And what if I don’t?” Jumping ceased and Phil’s back immediately turned to face Andy.
2.
Two weeks later Andy boarded a plane from JFK to Qatar, and from there to fly on to Kathmandu in Nepal. After two days in a hotel to acclimatise, he took an inland flight to Lukla and there met with Talu, the Sherpa he had hired as a guide and help for the journey which would continue on foot from there on.
Funny thing was that even though from the moment Andy had contacted the travel agency by email, and everything had gone smoothly – from arranging flights and accommodations to food wishes and what not – he had been unable to find the travel agency nor any information on the seven kingdoms online or offline. The only thing he’d found was information on Lawudo Gompa, a Buddhist retreat center deep in the mountains of Nepal, which was to be his first destination and a three days walk away from Lukla.
The hike was breath-taking. Deep lush green valleys alternated with steep, sharp mountain tops which seemed to emerge from the surface like giant white razor blades. At Namche Bazaar some final supplies were purchased before the final part towards Lawudo Gompa was set in.
The retreats location was nothing short of spectacular. That was partly due to the phenomenal scenery, but mainly to the ever felt presence of the Lawudo Lama Kunzang Yeshe, the founder of the retreat center and a devout Buddhist monk and teacher. It was as if the dharma, the Buddhist teaching, pervaded both the gross and the subtle worlds, and Andy noticed the hairs on his arms sticking out like a hedgehog during the whole of his stay there.
The next day he and Talu packed their bags and set out on their journey. The evening before some other guests had listened with great interest to Andy’s intended journey, because not one of them had ever heard of the Seven Kingdoms before. Unfortunately for them Andy wasn’t able to provide much information, other than what the flyer had promised: that meaning would be handed on a silver platter. Everybody wondered what that meant, and Andy refrained from saying that his decision to go on this trip was actually induced by Phil.
Andy had woken up with a slight dizziness which was a remnant of the previous evening’s beer consumption, but thank goodness the usual headache was lacking, and he committed himself to spending the rest of his holiday alcohol-free. When all was packed and goodbyes were said, he and Talu went on their way.
Without much problems they reached the first place to set up camp: a patch of grass sheltered by a large overhanging rock underneath which they could set up their one-person tents. A small crystal clear lake covered their eastern view while the sun was setting in the opposite direction, glowing the horizon blood red and creating the illusion that the lake was on fire. The food was simple but delicious and with a satisfied mind and longing heart, Andy crawled into his orange sleeping bag.
To his surprise the sun was already up as his eyes opened, since Talu had insisted on breaking up camp and being on their way before sunrise. Yet he thought not too much of it, and took his time to get dressed before unzipping his tent. Everything was exactly as they had left it the evening before, and since Talu’s tent was still closed, Andy was sure he must have been worn out by carrying all their stuff. So he leisurely started to make coffee and breakfast, and called Talu when he was done. When no answer came, Andy laughed silently as he approached the sherpa’s tent and knocked on it. Yet when no answer came, Andy’s laugh disappeared and was replaced by a pencil-stripe mouth and cautious gaze, not in the least because he could not even hear anyone breathing. In the end, even though he felt rather embarrassed about it, he decided to open the tent. It was empty.
3.
Every time Andy panicked, he began tapping the tips of his fingers with the tips of his thumbs; starting with the index finger, to the middle finger, ring finger and pinkie and back again, and the faster he did that, the higher the panic level. The emerging steam from his fingertips betrayed a panic level higher than Everest, because after two hours of searching and shouting, Talu had proven nowhere to be found. Actually, the only sign of life besides some scarce vegetation, had been the sounds of Andy’s own voice, breathing and increasingly faster footsteps.
Moreover, being not at all familiar with the terrain, he had merely walked around their camp in ever widening circles, until he was afraid he couldn’t find his way back anymore. He ended up sitting in front of his tent, frozen, his eyes staring into nothingness, while his thumbs continuously kept dancing their panic dance on the tips of his fingers.
An hour went by. And another. The sun was making its way to the opposite side of the crystal lake, the sky again became red, yet still no sign of Talu – or any other life that might be helpful to Andy’s predicament. Gloom made for depression, which by nightfall had transformed into utter anxiety. He crawled into his sleeping bag without having eaten all day, and as the wind began to pick up, he silently cried himself to sleep.
A faint sound of movement had the effect of a bucket of cold water, and Andy sat upright within milliseconds.
“Talu, that you?” he hissed. He wanted to get out of his tent as quickly as possible, but was prevented from doing so due to the zipper of his sleeping bag being stuck.
“Hells bells!” he muttered while frantically trying to unstuck the zipper, which finally gave in and co-operated with Andy’s wishes. He quickly put on pants and a jacket and then looked out into the dark of night. On the shore of the crystal lake however, he was sure to see faint lights moving up and down. There appeared to be a multitude of them, and since he didn’t know if Talu was among them, he quietly walked towards the scene.
There he saw almost an army of people, yet very small people, almost half his size. They were all hoisting nets and were carrying fishing gear, and obviously they had been fishing in the lake, because he saw big tons and buckets full of fish. Yet one scene troubled him a bit, because from one bucket a few of the little people stuck out, and in their state of being they resembled the fish eerily, because they were dead.
“Hey, who are you?” a voice behind him uttered authoritatively. “What are you doing here?” Andy jumped up because he hadn’t heard the voice creeping up behind him. When he turned around and stared into at least a dozen little people with spears pointed at him, immediately the fingertip-tapping with his thumbs began, yet he found himself dumbfounded while he stared at them in horror.
“Do you think he communicates with his hands?” one of the little people asked their squadron leader?
“I don’t know, but we can’t leave him here. We will let our king decide what needs to be done. Take him away.”
In the next part: The First and Second Kingdom.
Jolly greetings,
Erik Stout
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