When The Fire Goes Out

Far away, a man stands in front of a fire. He watches the flames with the quiet reverence of someone practiced in the art of appreciation. An appreciation taught to him by an elderly monk who passed many years ago, and like any (honorary) son, the man will carry his legacy by continuing his work.

The man remembers a boy he used to know. If he were to tell that boy’s story, it would go something like this.

-

In the western kingdom, a boy woke up without a mother.

The boy was a prince, and his mother was the queen. She had struggled with the war between the eastern kingdom and her kingdom, the western kingdom. 

After six years of fighting, the new eastern king drew his sword, killed the boy’s mother, and declared the war officially over.

For years after, every day the boy woke up with anger in his heart, mind set to one thing only: revenge.

And when that boy turned man, he trekked across three mountains and paddled down two rivers to reach what was called the Great Summit, a cliff’s edge where a single bow and arrow rested at the very end of the mountain face.

It was no ordinary bow and arrow. Aimed anywhere, and it always lands true - right into the heart of the one you despise most.

As he stood, finally, before the bow and arrow, he bent to retrieve them.

And he could not pull back the bowstring.

As he struggled with the weapon, a monk, clad in white robes, walked up to him. The prince, surprised at anyone being here, immediately assumed the monk has done something to the bow.

Though he accused the monk of tampering with the weapon so he could not pull back the bowstring, the monk simply smiled and shook his head.

“Prince, you have it all wrong. I did nothing to the bow - it can simply only be used by the worthy.”

“Are you worthy, monk? Can you use this bow?” The prince said, hoping that the monk would fail and the prince’s point would be proven.

“I feel no need to find out,” the monk said calmly. “I have no desire for revenge.”

The prince, anger fading, asked, “How do I become worthy?”

The monk extended a hand. “There are four things you must learn. I can teach you.”

The prince took the hand without hesitation. His quest for revenge had taken him this far. There was no turning back anymore, not until the eastern king was killed.

“Worthiness,” the monk said, “can be gained by four virtues. Let us start with the first three.”

The first things the prince learned were fortitude, humility, and temperance.

He spent day after day sitting with the monk, breathing, watching the fire burn until the light seemed permanently imprinted in his mind. He learned how to clear his mind and approach things without bias or anger. Even still, he could not forget the anger he felt with every second the eastern king still roamed the earth.

Every day, he would take the long hike up the mountain and down the river. Though the monk was elderly, he strode ahead as the prince struggled to keep up. When the prince felt as though his lungs would collapse and his legs would give out, they turned and made the hike back. When he thought he might faint from exhaustion, he remembered his mother’s killer and let the anger fuel him.

The prince traded his gaudy clothes for the simple robes of a monk, and discarded all the ornaments of jewels and precious metals in exchange for a bare neck and empty wrists. It was strange for him to walk without the reassuring clink of his gold and silver bracelets, the constant reminder of his past.

Though the first week was brutal, for he could not keep his mind from wandering, his heart from rebelling, or his body from aching, by the time the month had passed he learned. Now when he made the hike, when he grew tired he continued without complaint. Now when he went about his day, he remembered the calm in front of the fire and used it to keep the peace when disagreements occurred. And no longer did he wish for the decorated clothing and jewels of his past, for they had become useless remnants of a foolish young prince. He knew better now.

After many months passed, there came a day when the monk did not appear.

At first the prince was stumped, but he went about his day as usual. He watched the fire, dressed plainly, and hiked the mountain. The day passed without consequence, but then came another day, where the monk did not appear. It was then the prince grew worried that the monk was gone and angry that the monk was taking so long in coming back. 

The monk’s disappearance went on for a week, and it was only after seven days passed that he returned.

At first, the prince was still angry, because the monk told him that he thought to take a little holiday. It was a foolish decision by the monk, for monks simply do not go on holidays. Not when they have unsuspecting students waiting for their return.

But then the prince called himself and thought, though the monk put me through unnecessary worrying, it was not his intent. And so the prince forgave the monk without further thought, for needless anger and concern had plagued him the whole week long and he had had enough of the anxiety that came with it.

It was then the monk led the prince to the cliff, where the bow and arrow sat, waiting.

“You showed fortitude when you continued your hike without my hand to guide you, temperance when you calmed yourself though your turmoil grew in my absence, and humility through your absence of all things unnecessary.”

The prince was confused. “I have learned three of the four virtues. Temperance, fortitude, and humility. I have not yet learned the fourth. How can I be worthy?”

The monk just smiled and said, “The fourth can not be taught by a tutor. Go, lift the bow and extract your vengeance on your mother’s killer, the eastern king.”

And so the prince lifted the bow. He carefully placed the arrow in position.

And the bowstring did not pull back.

It did not pull back, for the prince did not

attempt to pull it back. Instead, he let the weapon slip from his fingers as carelessly as a half formed thought.

“I think I have been consumed by anger and the need for revenge for far too long. It is time to move on, and let my mother’s ghost rest in peace.”

And so the monk’s smile grew further, for it was now that the boy was finally worthy. 

“The fourth virtue was forgiveness.”

-

Now that same man sits in front of the fire, watching it burn with a peace he hasn’t felt since childhood. He sits, and waits, for he knows it will not be long until another headstrong young man comes with revenge on his mind.

Only now, it’s the prince who waits to teach him.