Lilies or Airhead
The best of all worlds is made out of tolerance.
“Did you find clarity for your life,” the lilies greeted Aron the next morning, their leaves swaying. “It was so complicated.”
“My melancholy can be cured if I can find out what my heart dreams about,” Aron hurriedly declared to the lilies.
“You are the ruler. Isn't that a dream?” asked the flowers.
“It's the highest status, but not my dream. The responsibility is great. I'm still young,” Aron said annoyed for the hundredth time. “Nubia is the land of the golden sun. We worship the sun as we hold gold sacred, for gold is the color of the sun. Some scholars even claim that the sun's light is the gold of life. But gold weighs heavily.”
The flowers nodded their understanding. “You want to feel light, but the future of Nubia weighs on your shoulders.”
“It's good to talk to you and every morning you lift up my heart,” the prince thanked them. The lilies' words were a balm on his soul. He never had to explain anything to them. They understood the language of his heart. That is why he always behaved very courteously toward the flowers, a fact that infuriated the wind of course, since, as usual, he was eavesdropping on their conversation. Insulted, the wind began to howl. True, he wanted to live in peace with the lilies, yet somehow he found it hard. And since he didn't want to trip them with his leg, he gave them a push (1) (2) (3) (4) (5) (6) (7) out of pure jealousy. The flower elves rolled out of the blossom chalices and landed directly at the prince's feet.
“What was that?” the prince said startled.
“That's enough now you pompous buffoon,” the lilies protested indignantly. They lowered their blossom chalices like long necks and gathered up the poor elves, who reached distraught for the rims of the blossoms.
“This was the last time. Go play your dirty tricks elsewhere. You'd better get lost or you'll really get in trouble. Then you'll have to deal with our relatives the irises,” threatened the lilies with faint little voices. “Don't show your face around here again and definitely not at our feet.”
The prince had never seen the lilies in such a mood. But the wind just couldn't let go and continued to taunt them: “I'm a rogue, your humble servant.” Then he burst out laughing about his own joke. But when he saw the lilies almost bursting with anger, he realized that he had crossed the line and he stroked and flattered the blossoms and leaves with a cool breeze that sounded like a melody: lilies, my honey-sweet lilies. It was his way of apologizing. And, indeed, it wasn't before long and he had calmed down the agitated flowers.
Prince Aron didn't want to interfere in their quarrels every time and so he turned to the wind as courteously as to the lilies:
“I greet you, world traveler. I'm looking for a sign for my life's itinerary.” The prince addressed the wind with all due reverence. He was greatly concerned to keep the wind in a good mood for he too might be useful as an advisor. Of course, only when he felt like it and his airy spirits weren't spiraling into heavy air.
“Signs, signs!” the wind was again getting unnecessarily huffy. Why did he have to get into a tizzy right away. “Signs are everywhere. To recognize them depends on the eye of the beholder. But before the signs become visible to you, go to the valley of tears. There you will find out why this experience is important.”
Aron was very impressed by the wind's intelligence. He recognized that only someone who had traveled the world could have so much knowledge.
“I've never heard of the valley of tears in my life, but I'll follow your advice. I thank you for it.” What was going on with Aron? He often forgot to say hello and today he said thank you twice. The wind's chest began to swell. With a self-important glance toward the lilies, he puffed himself up one more time, before he subsided to take a rest.
“This little prince is a real greenhorn,” the wind worried about Aron. “I'll be at his side as much as I can, even if he says hello to the lilies first.” He thought further: “When Kofur held me captive on the third tower, it was the prince who liberated me. He saw to it that Kofur would come crashing down and break his leg. The demon will never forgive him for that. I'll follow the prince to the valley of tears so he won't be left on his own. One never knows when the evil one will suddenly appear.”
The sun prince ran back to the palace. He ordered the official of velvet and silk to get his travel boots ready.
“Whereto the journey?” asked the official.
“To the valley of tears,” the prince replied.
“That sounds far away. Wouldn't horse and buggy be more appropriate?” probed the official.
“I don't know the way,” replied the sun prince.
“In that case, I'll have the boots brought immediately,” the official affirmed hurriedly.
When Aron had put on his shiny travel boots with the silver spurs, he ordered the boots: “To the valley of tears.”
The boots were very practical. One just had to click the heels and call out the place and off they would go. They were familiar with every roadway. Arrived at an intersection, the prince didn't have to decide which direction to take. The boots were never wrong. They marched and marched on until they had reached the valley of tears.