Kingdoms: Pt 2

Part one: https://www.youngwriterssociety.com/work.php?id=1...

***

The climb was the longest yet, but I didn’t mind. I didn’t seem to get tired here. As we ascended, the fields and gardens were replaced by green forests and wildflower-filled glades. As we walked, the land became greener and wetter, smelling like forests, flowers, and rain on earth. It got colder as we ascended. I didn’t quite know if the temperature was because of the altitude, or because the sun was setting, but it surprised me. It was, at moments, almost cold enough to be uncomfortable, something I had not experienced yet in the kingdoms.

“Is it that… cold?”

“Yes, they still have seasons up here,” The Shepherd responded, with a sly smile, like it made him proud.

Soon, the ground evened out and I realized there wasn’t much more up to go. We had reached the peaks. I could faintly smell smoke in the cold air, and hear distant voices.

The path broke out of the trees into a cobblestone street. The street was lined with small stone homes, with little windows that glistened from internal firelight. Their roofs were made of stone tiles or thatch, and their rough stone walls were often adorned with ivy and lichen. Each one, separately, was perfectly pleasant, but together they formed one beautiful bunch.

As we walked down this village street, I glanced in the windows, and saw, to my surprise - families.

In some windows, I saw they were sitting down for supper. In others, I saw children playing. In one, I saw a daughter reading in one corner, in another, a son being taught piano by a father. Here, a mother cooking with her daughter, and there, a father chasing two younger children. We slipped past countless scenes of joy, we unseen in the ever-darkening dusk.

As we came to the top of the village, we passed what appeared to be a small stone church. It was adorned with beautiful but simple carvings framing its windows and small wooden door. Spilling out from inside was the sound of angelic voices singing merry songs.

I paused. It was the most glorious thing I’d ever heard.

The Shepherd smiled but gestured onward. “We don’t want to be late for supper.”

***

We walked the winding cobblestone street and followed it up a slight wooded hill. Then, we came to another cottage, made of the same stone as the rest of the village. It was surrounded by a small garden, growing what looked like more vegetables than flowers. There was a bench, along with a pile of firewood. I glanced around, Mark Twain had been right, it was like they were peasants! As I looked around, I also caught a view of the valley. We had truly reached the peaks, for I could see the valley on the other side of the mountain. In the dusk, it was hard to make out, but even now it was breathtaking, with dark forests and bright fields, rough rivers and smooth ponds.

Looking at the simple cottage, I asked, “So, who are we visiting now?” After meeting Alexander the Great in the first kingdom, and the artists in the second, I wondered who could be in the third.

“Oh, no one you’ve ever heard of, but they are my family,” The Shepherd said and knocked.

The door was opened, and a joyful squeal filled the air. “PAPA,” a little girl said, embracing the leg of The Shepherd. The Shepherd picked her up.

“Caroline,” He said, affectionately, “How you have grown! You're nearly a woman now!” He poked her stomach

Caroline giggled.

From the open door wafted the most wondrous scent I had ever smelled. It was deep, meaty, and made my mouth water. To my surprise, I realized I was hungry. The tops of these mountains really were a strange place! I peered in to try to find the source of the smell and saw a cozy and quaint kitchen. Along the back wall was a large hearth, crackling and filling the home with warm light. Over this hearth was a burbling pot, from which the wonderful smell issued. The hearth was set into the stone wall, surrounded by shelves containing a wide variety of fresh ingredients, glistening brass pots and pans, and colorful porcelain plates and cups.

At the counter beneath them, a woman was slicing bread that was so freshly baked it was steaming. There was a large wooden table where another child, a boy, a little older than Caroline, sat, scribbling away at a piece of parchment.

A man stood in the doorway. He had a kind face and a large nose. His bearded face was split by a warm smile that made wrinkles form around his eyes and on his forehead.

“What a wonderful surprise,” He said. He hugged The Shepherd, and in the same movement pulled him inside.

“It’s Papa, with a guest!” He proclaimed

The woman looked up and smiled as well as if there was nothing she would rather hear. She was beautiful, but not in the way Charlotte had been pretty. Where Ms Bronte had been enticing, this woman was almost calming to look upon. Her features were soft, but robust, as if she was made of real life, whereas Ms. Bronte had almost been made of glass.

“It’s good to see you, Lilain,” The Shepherd said, smiling affectionately. “You know I could never miss your stew.”

She laughed, not necessarily because it was funny, but because the compliment pleased her.

I looked in on the scene, still standing outside. It was so joyful, that I felt almost uncomfortable, like I was interrupting some intimate family gathering, but suddenly my hand was grasped warmly in the two large hands and shaken.

“I’m Frank, it’s good to meet you,” The man said, pulling me into the warm home. “Where are you joining us from?”

“Um, Earth Life,” I responded.

“Well, we are glad to have you here,” Frank said, but it didn’t seem like a polite phrase, it carried with it real gratitude. “This is my family - my wife Lilian, my son Henry, my youngest, Caroline, and my daughter Elizabeth,”

Elizabeth, who had been out of my view before, sat in a drawing room, and by the light of a few candles and another fire, seemed to be sewing something or another. She looked up and smiled, like she was glad to see me, though we’d never met before.

“Please close the door behind you,” Lilian requested gently, as she turned to the pot and began to stir, “We don’t want a draft coming in.”

“It looks like someone has spent too much time in the foothills,” Frank said, the family laughed.

“We just came from there,” The Shepherd said as Henry showed him the picture he had been drawing.

“Well, we are glad to have you here,” Lilian said. “When did you arrive in the Kingdoms?”

“Just this morning,” I said, “Though I’m only visiting - I think.”

“Well, you came to the right place,” Frank boasted as he began to set the table with Elizabeth. “You won’t have ever had supper like this,”

“Smells like it,” I said. They laughed.

A young woman came down the stairs. She was younger than Elizabeth, but not a child. Her hair was brighter and braided skillfully. She smiled when she saw us. “I thought I heard your voice!” she exclaimed, gleefully, and ran to hug the Shepherd. She pulled away and looked him up and down. ”What is that book?”

The Shepherd, with a twinkle in his eye, took the book out from under his arm. “It’s Dickens' newest manuscript. I thought I’d fetch it for you while I was in the foothills.” He handed it to her.

She grinned and threw her arms around the Shepherd again, then ran away, taking the book with her. She plopped down in a corner armchair and opened it.

“Well Papa, look what you’ve done, now we won’t see her for weeks,” Elizabeth said. Everyone laughed again.

“That’s very thoughtful of you, she's been talking about that one for ages,” Lilian said, “How did you know?”

“He always knows,” Little Henry said. The whole family laughed again.

“That’s Amy,” Elizabeth informed me, nodding at the bright-haired girl.

I joined in with the Shepherd and Elizabeth in setting the table. The pleasant conversation continued. Amy returned and helped her mother, and soon we were all taking our places at the table.

As just as we finished sitting down, the door burst open, and out of the cool night came two young people. First, charging in, a young man, handsome, with elvish features and bright eyes, his face ruddy from the cold. In tow behind him was a young lady, beautiful as well, but like Lilian, her beauty was entirely guileless. She had long locks of brown messy hair that spilled out of a bright hat over her also ruddy face.

Soon, we were introduced: Jacob, Frank's son-in-law, and Hannah, his oldest daughter. They, like everyone else, seemed delighted to see the Shepherd, and nearly as delighted to meet me.

They all sat down, thanks was given, and food was served.

“So, how is the choir coming along?” The Shepherd asked.

“Oh, splendidly,” Jacob responded, breathlessly.

I took a spoonful of soup. Frank had been right, I had never eaten anything quite like it. It filled my whole being with warmth, and the taste was exquisite, meaty, complex, and deep. It seeped down all the way into my bones.

“Compared to how you sounded at the start, it's going miraculously,” Hannah said.

Jacob frowned at the smart, and the whole family laughed, and he broke out in a wide grin. “I must admit my improvement is rather impressive.”

To this, Hannah agreed warmly.

Soon, the conversation turned to me. They asked all types of things about me, and to my surprise, when I answered, they seemed to really care. They asked more questions about my answers and continued to joke, laugh, compliment, and converse. By the time the stew was finished and the pie was served, they knew me just as well as anyone ever had, and I felt the same for them.

After the pie was eaten, we moved to the next room. It was small but cozy. Along the far wall was another fireplace, surrounded by bookshelves. To the left was a stone staircase, and the rest of the room was full of armchairs and sofas, with our crowd it would be rather tight once filled.

I looked at it, a little perplexed.

“Does the size confuse you?” The Shepherd asked.

I blushed, I had been too embarrassed to ask. It seemed rude. “Well, umm, it is heaven after all. Why isn’t it like the fields or the foothills? Their homes had room to spare.”

The Shepherd looked around as if waiting for someone else to answer.

“Well, why make it any bigger? We all just want to be in the same room, anyway,” Hannah said.

“We’d rather not waste the space of unused rooms,” Frank added, jovially.

I nodded slowly. I supposed I understood - I didn’t want to leave their company, either.

We all found chairs or sofas and the conversation continued. It turned to things I didn’t really understand - exciting plans, designs, and the future. There seemed to be a larger purpose to things here unlike there had been in the other kingdoms. They were moving towards something, though I couldn’t quite understand what.

Hannah and little Thomas could tell I was lost, so they continued to entertain me, Hannah chatting and Thomas drawing me pictures. While Thomas was showing me a particularly wonderful drawing of us in a castle, Hannah excused herself, and then shortly returned, holding a bundle in her arms.

As she sat down, I saw the bundle was a wrapped baby, sleeping peacefully.

His face was so perfect. It almost seemed holy, in a delicate way. I looked at him in surprise.

“There are babies here?” I asked.

Hannah giggled like it was the silliest question in the world. “It wouldn’t quite be heaven without them, would it be?” She offered for me to hold him, and I gratefully accepted.

Soon, the fire had burned low, and conversation had died down. I yawned

I was drowsy.

What a strange place this was!

The Shepherd glanced at me.

“Tired?” He asked, with a smile.

I nodded, surprised myself.

“You’re in good company,” Frank said, glancing at Thomas, who was curled up on a couch, and then at Caroline, who was fast asleep in her mother's lap.

“Well, then I should be going,” The Shepherd said, standing up to leave.

I stood up to follow him, and the family laughed, and he grinned as well.

“I will fetch you in the morning, but you can stay with the family tonight. I can see you need the rest.”

“Our family has that effect on people,” Frank said

“Sleep?” I asked. “Where?”

They all looked over at a bed in the corner. It hadn’t been there when I had come in. They must have drawn it up while I had been talking to Hannah.

“They’ll take good care of you, and I’ll be back first thing in the morning,” The Shepherd said.

“Before you go,” Elizabeth said, rushing back to her sewing table. She picked up a bright hat, like Hannah’s, and returned. “I made this for you.”

The Shepherd took it gratefully and slipped it on with a smile. He said goodbye to everyone in turn and then stepped out into the cold night.

The family cleaned up together, made sure I was comfortable, and then filed off upstairs to bed.

Once they were gone, I slipped under the wonderfully heavy blankets and faded off to the low light of flickering coals.

***

When I awoke, the sun was shining brightly through the little paned windows. The air had the feeling of perfect stillness, as it does before the whole world wakes up.

I felt perfectly rested. I sat up and realized that this was the first time I had been alone in the Kingdoms. Well, I didn’t mind, this last kingdom was so strange, I wanted to see more of it. I slipped out of the blankets and quietly crept across the kitchen.

Opening the door, I stepped out into the early rays of dawn. The air was crisp, but the sunlight was warm enough that if I stood still in it, my skin felt warm.

I wandered through the forest. It sparkled with dew and was full of lively sounds of birdsong, the chirping of animals, and the splashing of a distant brook. Compared to the well-manicured gardens of the foothills, the peaks seemed almost wild, with tall trees and moss-covered stones. Looking down out the village, its many cottages all seemed to be sleeping, the windows dark, with only a few wisps of smoke rising from their chimneys.

This place wasn’t like Alexander's Kingdom - though I was alone, I didn’t quite feel lonely. The whole land seemed to be keeping me company. It was a quiet and peaceful companion, but a cheerful one, nonetheless.

As I wandered deeper into the forest, I soon came across what appeared to be a shed of sorts. It was a well-constructed building made out of raw wood blanks, with the door hanging slightly ajar.

Curious, I approached. Peering through the door, I could see that the building was some sort of workshop, with tools hanging on the wall, and different cuts of wood leaning against workbenches. I pushed the door open, to get a better view. Small carved objects sat on shelves around the room, and the floor was covered in wood shavings. In the center of the room, a man sat on a bench, with his back to me.

Past him, the whole back wall was missing, revealing a breathtaking view of the valley below. The man turned from what he had been carving and looked back at me.

Frank smiled and invited me to come sit with him. I did.

“Wonderful, isn’t it?” He asked as he continued to carve away.

“Yes,” I said, staring out at the valley.

We sat there quietly as he kept carving away. As the minutes passed the light began to fill the valley, revealing the varied landscape below. The shadows faded away like draining water. The growing light revealed soft green hills and rough gray cliffs, shady groves of trees and colorful fields of wildflowers, rushing rivers and still lakes. My eyes drank in the view, filling my soul to the brim

Frank blew on the carving, sending wood shavings into the air. He handed it to me.

It was a little building, almost like a toy, except it was carved so intricately that it seemed almost real.

“What is it?” I asked, admiring it. It resembled a church and was masterfully made, the detail going down to patterns on the door handles.

“I suppose you could call it a school,” He said, taking my hand and putting it out in front of me, so it almost looked like it was sitting down in the valley below, in a particularly beautiful field. “That’s where it will go.”

“What for?” I asked.

“I’ve always wanted to make a building like that, and I know it would complement the river. The stone there is perfect for it, and then, once it's finished, we’ll have somewhere for the children to learn.”

“Finished?” I asked, confused.

“Well, it will take some time to build, if I plan on carving all of that stone.”

“You will build it?”

“Of course I will, who else would?” Frank laughed.

“Well, why can’t you just… make it be? Like the other houses,” I asked.

“You're thinking like those on the foothills. Everything here was built.”

I looked at him, shocked. “Built, by who?”

“By us.”

“You?” I asked.

“Yes, me, and others.” He laughed again. “Everything - the cottages here in the peaks, the foothill manors, and the palaces in the fields, were all made by us.”

“You made Alexander's palace?” I asked, in awe.

“Well, not alone, but I did some of the stonework there,” He said, grinning at my awe. “That was fun. He had a particularly interesting design style. That man liked horses.”

“Why would you do all that? It must have taken ages.” I said, thinking of its massiveness.

“Well, why not?” He laughed. “We have ages. And they were beautiful things to make, and the people in the foothills were so glad to have their houses. Those on the plains are usually less grateful, but it really never was about being thanked.”

This last kingdom kept confusing me! “Mark Twain said that up here, you sold your freedom to be peasants. Why did you?” I asked. “In the foothills, they seem perfectly taken care of, they have food, clothes, houses, without having to do anything. But here, you seem to have to work for all of that. Why?”

Frank smiled, knowingly. “There is much about joy that those in the foothills will never understand - things their own scriptures and philosophers should teach them - but it is something that never really could be learned in reading. Once you have carved a toy boat for little Henry, you would understand. Once you have made a dress for Amy, or built homes for your children, or made stew for a visitor, you would understand. We build their manors and palaces for that reason.” He paused and looked out at the valley thoughtfully. “We have eternity after all, and in the end, it has been good practice for what is to come.”

“What is to come?”

He took the model from my hand, and turned it over, on the other side was a little waterwheel. “I’ve never made a waterwheel, it will be a great pleasure to learn how all those gears and cogs. Then, it will power a little elevator for the children, I thought they would enjoy that.”

I looked at him, still confused. He sighed and took the carving from my hand. He looked out at the valley for a moment. “This isn’t the only valley, there are so many more. They need to be filled. We will keep having children, and they will keep having children, and they will keep having children, and they will all need houses to stay in. I will build them. The people in the fields and the foothills never understood what was meant by the kingdoms. They thought they were three. There never were three. There are so many more, but it is only here that you will be able to build them.”

I looked back out at the valley. The exciting plans they had been talking about last night seemed to make more sense now. They were building something. Building something, not for themselves, but for each other, and for the future.

“I have a question,” I said, nervously.

“Yes?”

“On earth, we are told that the righteous would see the face of God. That they would dwell with Him. Which Kingdom is He in?”

Frank chuckled, and looking around, located a small piece of half-carved wood. It looked like an unfinished project. He took it and started to carve. “Well,” he began, “He never hid Himself from the others, He still cares for them after all, and directed the building of their kingdoms - though they might not see Him.”

He stopped speaking to focus on the carving for a moment. He was making rather quick work, shavings flying every which way.

“Alexander, and the others in the fields, see in Him only a slave, and to them, that is all He will ever be.” He blew off some shavings and started at another angle.

“To those in the foothills He is merely a Guide, and to them, He was, and still is - but they never desired anything more of that relationship.” He put his blade aside, grabbed another tool, and started carving.

“Here, we know Him as our Father. This is His land where we build our homes. The others do not live with Him, because they would never desire it. They do not recognize His face because they do not wish to live as He does.”

Frank went quiet as he did a few last carves on the wood. When he finished, he handed it to me.

It was a little shepherd crook, not particularly detailed, but unmistakable.

“To you, a mere visitor, He is The Shepherd. It will be up to you, whether He is anything more, or less.”

***

I spent the rest of the morning with Frank, and he shared much more, but eventually, he said he could smell breakfast, and we walked back to the house together. There we did find breakfast and The Shepherd.

After a wonderful breakfast, the family began to disperse to the various activities, and The Shepherd told me it was also our time to go. We wished everyone goodbye. They said they hoped to see me soon, (“But not too soon,” Frank said with a laugh), and we began to walk back in the direction we had come, passing through the village, and down onto the mountain roads. Eventually, it was warming up again, and we were passing the same manor homes as before. We passed Mozart's home and saw the whole party was on the back lawn, having a delightful picnic. They were so occupied with their games they didn’t seem to notice us.

As we kept walking, the ground began to even out again. Eventually, up ahead, we saw the towering palace. It was quiet, and alone. We passed under its shadow, and I glanced back at it. It had to have taken them centuries to build by hand!

Soon, we were back where we had started, where I had met the Shepherd.

“Where now?”

The Shepherd nodded back at the field. “You will be going back to where you came.”

“I am?” I asked, surprised. “Don’t I get to choose?”

“You do, there.” He smiled warmly. “That’s where everyone picks. You will wake up back on earth soon. You were just a visitor, for now.”

I suppose I had somehow been expecting that. I didn’t quite feel at home in any of the Kingdoms, yet.

“Don’t forget what you saw here. You can change while you are there on earth, but you will not change when you come across that field next time. Then, you will have chosen.”

I turned and started to walk, but then stopped, looking out at the field. It was so far. Suddenly, I was scared. I hadn’t been scared in all my time in the Kingdoms.

“Can…” I paused, I wasn’t sure if I could ask. “Can you walk with me a little further?” I turned back and found he was close behind me. He had been following me, just out of my sight.

He smiled, the wrinkles forming around his old, knowing eyes. “I will walk with you the whole way, until we meet back here again.” He said. I wouldn’t see him the whole way, but I knew it was true, and it was comforting.

I turned to go, but I only got a few paces before I heard my name.

I had not heard my name my whole journey in the Kingdoms, but now He spoke it. The name, though gentle, was clear and seemed to cause reality to quiver. Every particle of my being shivering to be called by their Maker.

I turned back and looked at Him.

“Yes?” I asked.

“I will be with you, and I will do all I can to bring you back to live with Me again.”

I nodded, that made sense, and that too, was comforting.

We turned and started walking back.

It was now time for me to choose.