Many generations ago, when the world was still full of magic, and the kings and queens of the world used to ride many weeks’ journey over stormy seas to seek wisdom, there was in a distant mountain a wall made entirely of parchment.
The Parchment Wall stretched along the ridge of the mountain, separating two great lands, and leaders from all the nations would travel to the mountain’s ridge to stand beside it.
From time to time, even great warriors would travel to the wall, and use their swords and great exploding things to break through to the other side. But the warriors could not break through, because magic held the parchment fast, and the wall had become impenetrable.
The Parchment Wall was home to a mystic by the name of Yhana. It was rumored she was over 400 years old and had seen many kings and queens in her time. All anyone could ever see was her silhouette, shrouded by the parchment, and lit by a candle that made her shadow formless and distant. Her visitors would come at dusk, and sit upon the rock outside her home, and they would summon her by saying:
Open-hearted…
Empty-handed.
I come to seek your wisdom…
If it is time.
Then, the visitor would wait, and if it was time to hear Yhana’s teaching, her silhouette would appear upon the Parchment Wall, and she would explain the great mysteries. Some would travel for weeks over months only to hear a single word. Others would travel great distances to hear nothing at all, for it was not their time.
It came to pass, in a far-off village, there lived a girl named Julie. She wore her hair straight and black, and always perfectly combed. When her neighbors would say, “Hello, Julie,” and ask, “How are you today?” her response was always the same:
“I’m very tired, but I’ll be just fine, thank you.”
She had reason to be tired, for Julie had lost her father in a terrible accident, and he had only left her a few belongings, including a quill which she kept with her at all times to conduct the family trade, a razor-sharp knife for cutting fabrics, and a stone and sling which she kept with her to protect her on her travels to neighboring villages.
“Keep the stone close,” her father said to her once in a dream. “It will tell you if someone is lying.” So, Julie always believed the stone was magic, and thankfully she never had to use it.
Since her father’s death, she was responsible for her family’s well-being. Her mother did what she could, but she was frail, and much work was put upon poor Julie. She never cried, though. No, never did she cry. No, Julie was far too practical a girl. When the work would become too much for her, she would sit on the wooden bench her father had made for her and think first about nothing. Next, when she had sufficiently thought of nothing, she would think about only one thing; one of the many, many things she had to do. With that one thing planted firmly in her mind, she would set out and do it. When she was done with that, she would do one more thing, and then one more, until at last the work was done, and she would go off to bed, sometimes forgetting to eat supper due to her tired body and mind.
She would wake up in the morning reasonably refreshed, make her bed, and comb her hair in long, perfect strokes. She would think of happier times, remembering the words of her father, and his stories about a wall made of parchment and a wise woman who stopped wars, and ended famine, and restored entire countries, all with her wise advice.
Julie longed for the day when she would be able to set out into the world to meet her destiny. She got her chance far too soon.
One day, while Julie was on an errand to buy silk for trading in the market, a terrible fire ravaged her village, consuming many of the houses and even burning the farms. Julie’s mother was trapped inside their home, and being so old and infirm, did not get out in time, and was killed. A great sorrow descended upon the villagers.
Their grief was so deep, their sadness so sincere, the villagers did nothing to rebuild. They knew not what to do, and they only focused on their loss. All except Julie, of course, for Julie was far too practical.
Julie found the burned remains of her wooden bench and sat next to the heap of charcoal where it once stood. She closed her eyes and first thought of nothing, as she normally did when burdened with too many things. Then, with her mind sufficiently clear, she allowed herself one thought:
Meet your destiny.
She remembered her father’s stories about the Parchment Wall, and the journey and sacrifice required, and resolved herself to travel so far and seek wisdom for herself and her village.
And so, with the determination of 1,000 men, Julie set out with her knife, her stone, her sling, and her quill for the Parchment Wall to meet her destiny.
While the journey was long and difficult, Julie never once considered turning back. She resolved herself to endure whatever dangers she encountered.
Julie was not long on her journey when she saw in the road a serpent, striking in its color, and elegant in its movement. At first, she was cautious, but then the serpent spoke.
“Hello, Julie,” spoke the serpent.
“How do you know my name?” was her reply.
“I knew your father,” answered the serpent. “Come, sit with me, and I will remember him with you.”
The stone Julie carried began to glow hot at this lie and the mention of Julie’s father, revealing its magic. But Julie could not feel its heat because it was deep within her pack which she set down next to her as she conversed with the snake.
She sat with the serpent at the side of the road under a large tree and reminisced about her father. Julie did most of the talking, and the serpent said mostly nothing, except for the occasional, “Yes. I knew him well.” Hours she spent, sitting and talking with the serpent, while the stone glowed hot in her pack beside her, until night came, and she felt tired and fell asleep next to the snake, using her pack as a pillow.
During the night, the snake coiled itself about Julie’s body, whispering “I knew your father well,” and slithering itself around her neck. The snake began to squeeze. But finally, Julie felt the heat of the enchanted stone burning her cheek, and she awoke to find the snake squeezing the life out of her. She reached for her knife, and with one quick move, cut the snake’s head off. She cast it aside, and resolving she needed sleep, curled up and slumbered until morning.
At daybreak she ate a small breakfast of fresh-cooked meat, roasted over a small fire she made for herself. While she was packing her belongings, she decided the stone was best kept in her pocket, with her sling at her side, and was thankful the stone had protected her.
As she prepared herself, along came a funny man, about three feet tall, and bearing a striking resemblance to an uncle she loved dearly. She couldn’t help but laugh when she saw him, for his clothes were so whimsical.
“Hello, funny little man! What is your name?” said Julie, after her giggle was done.
The man regarded Julie for a moment, and then burst out laughing himself, clutching his sides he laughed so hard. This only made Julie laugh more, and the two of them sat there at the side of the road, holding their sides and laughing until tears began to roll down their cheeks, which caused them both to laugh even more!
When the two had laughed so long and so loud that Julie felt sufficiently silly, she resolved to be on her way, but the gnome grabbed her hand and begged, “Don’t leave, Julie! Stay here awhile and have fun with me!” He burst out laughing again, which, if Julie admitted, did make her chuckle once more.
“How do you know my name?” Julie managed, between laughs.
“I knew your father,” was the gnome’s reply, which was true.
So, at the remembrance of her father, Julie’s heart felt bad for the gnome, giving her pause to spend more time in memoriam. They spent all day, laughing together and chasing each other around trees, until at last the little man pulled a bottle from his pouch, and poured a nip into his mouth, and then laughed so loudly that he snorted.
“Oh my!” said Julie. “What on earth is in that bottle?”
“It’s something your father gave me,” said the gnome, handing the bottle to Julie.
But this was a lie, and the magic stone in Julie’s pocket began to glow hotter than ever, and so Julie was not so easily tricked this time and knew at once this little man meant to harm her with poison. She immediately poured the liquid on the ground, where it pooled into a black smoke that circled downward toward the middle of the earth. When she looked up, the little man vanished in a dark flash.
Julie gathered her belongings and ventured forth, determined to reach the Parchment Wall, and Yhana, and wisdom. She traveled some time, stopping here and there to sleep, or to capture a glimpse of some wild creature. When one such animal, a beast with blood-stained fur, spotted Julie from across the woods, it turned its gaze upon her. Julie flung her knife at the beast, but missed, and the knife was lost in the forest. The creature moved to attack. Julie readied her stone and her sling, when suddenly, a beautiful dragon stepped out of the shadows between girl and beast, and blew a wonderful flame from its snout, needing to take no more than one step toward the bloodthirsty creature, prompting it to flee.
Julie stared at the dragon, her sling hanging loosely at her side, turning the stone over in her hand.
“Who are you?” she demanded. But the dragon simply looked back at her and smiled.
She had never seen such a wonderful thing in all her life. She dared not look away as the dragon turned and surveyed its surroundings. Once the dragon appeared satisfied that all was safe, it preened itself, attending to every scale on its body, paying special attention to care for a glowing spot between its eyes. When it was done, it spoke.
“Well now,” it said, its voice majestic and resonant. “Let’s see to it nothing like that ever happens to you again, shall we?”
Julie was immediately in love with the dragon. It was so powerful and spoke so beautifully she could not help but be enchanted.
“I am the dragon of this wood,” it continued. “I protect all that lives here. Come with me to see my fortune.”
That’s when Julie found herself climbing upon the dragon’s back, and it swiftly carried her away to his cave, where she found a vast and unending collection of gold, and silver, and lapis lazuli. The dragon led her to a room laid out with the finest silk clothing, and a bed so comfortable you would never want to leave it.
“Why have you brought me here?” said Julie.
“You are my girl now,” said the dragon. “I will protect you and see to your care all the rest of my days.”
Julie looked down at the floor and burst into tears. She had traveled long, and she had suffered greatly, and only thought of her sudden relief, knowing the dragon could provide for her.
“Why do you cry?” soothed the dragon.
She confided all she had suffered through – her father’s death, the great fire, the long journey, and the terrible things she’d encountered upon it. She stopped short of telling the dragon her desire to visit the Parchment Wall, but the dragon guessed her intentions.
“You seek Yhana,” it supposed, and Julie admitted she did. “Look around you,” the dragon continued. “You needn’t ever leave. This fortune, this comfort, and even I can be yours for eternity.”
The dragon led Julie away from her belongings to a vast room, filled with solid gold human figures, and a diamond platform in the middle of the floor. The room shone brightly, and Julie noticed that every figure was that of a girl about her age, all beautiful, and all smiling. But as Julie visited each one, she could see there were tears behind each of their eyes, the only thing that had not turned to gold.
“Step onto the platform,” the dragon said, “and this comfort is yours forever.” Julie couldn’t help but be convinced, and she moved to the center of the room. She only paused a moment, thinking of the tears behind the eyes of the gilded girls surrounding her, but the dragon pressed on.
“Come now,” it said. “Yhana is a myth, and your father would want this for you.”
The stone in Julie’s pocket glowed white hot. At once she saw through the dragon’s spell, and Julie readied her sling. In a swift motion, she hurtled the fiery stone at the spot between the dragon’s eyes, and the dragon was vanquished right where it stood.
The gold that held the girls fast melted from their skin as they were released from their prison, dozens upon scores at once, and they all thanked Julie, some crying, some laughing, some silent in disbelief.
According to their gratitude, the girls replenished Julie’s supplies, and offered love and words of encouragement. Julie took up her belongings once again, remembering her goal to reach the Parchment Wall, venturing forward without her stone, which was lost in the battle with the dragon. However, soon upon her journey, Julie regained her bearings, and again found herself quite a capable traveler.
After many days she entered a clearing one evening and was taken aback at the sight of the tremendous wall that lay ahead of her. Just as the legend had told, the entire structure stretched as far as Julie could see, entirely and completely constructed of parchment. Even the battlement, bailey, and barbican were expertly constructed from the otherwise flimsy material, and the gate was drawn with ink. Julie had finally arrived. With great difficulty she climbed and hiked the last bit to the strange illustrated portcullis, which was illuminated from the other side by candle light.
Julie gathered her courage, walked up to the gate, sat herself upon the fabled rock she found there, and spoke the words so many had spoken before her:
Open-hearted…
Empty-handed.
I come to seek your wisdom…
If it is time.
A silhouette, formless and distant, appeared upon the parchment, and a voice as old as the world spoke from the other side. Julie knew at once who it was.
“Speak quickly,” said Yhana. “For there is not much time.”
This surprised Julie, and she was immediately concerned. She forgot the reason for her travels. She forgot the fire, and she forgot the deaths. She forgot her village, and the dragon. She forgot all that she had suffered and turned all of her attention to the mystic voice on the other side of a parchment wall she had only just encountered.
“What can I do?” said Julie.
“I cannot say,” was the ancient reply.
Julie pressed upon the parchment gate, but she understood the legend well and knew there would be no way to force her way through.
“How do I get to you?” Julie panicked.
“You must draw your own conclusion,” was all that Yhana replied.
Julie was overcome with helplessness, and she wanted to cry. Then, as she did when she became overwhelmed so many times before, she cleared her mind, and first thought of nothing. Then, when her mind was sufficiently unburdened, she allowed herself only one thought:
You must draw your own conclusion.
Julie retrieved her quill and began to draw her story on the parchment, one detail after another, each detail flowing from the pen easily and freely. The more she drew, the easier it became, and the more beautiful the drawing became, until suddenly the quill began to tear through the parchment to the other side of the wall, the sharp tip carving an opening large enough for Julie to peer through.
As she tore through the parchment, she saw Yhana not a 400-year-old woman, as the legend had claimed, but a girl, small and weak. The girl was crying and holding a gigantic stone upon her shoulders, her back bleeding, her arms trembling.
“How long have you been holding that stone?” asked Julie, terror and fright again flooding through her.
“Always,” said Yhana.
Julie burst into tears, crying, “Let me help you!”
“No!” warned Yhana. “I’ll not have you carrying this burden too.”
But Julie did not listen, and ran to Yhana, dislodging her hold on the stone, and standing herself beneath its incredible weight.
Time passed very quickly for Julie, whose legs immediately began to shake beneath the weight. Tears streamed from her face and blood pooled in her hands as she held the stone fast. The world around her seemed to die and regrow, seasons passing in a matter of moments, and the flowers and trees yellowed and fell and grew green again before her very eyes.
Yhana stood straight up, and stretched herself like she had never done, becoming a woman and not a girl, feeling every inch of her body cry out in gratitude for the chance to rest.
At this, there was a great crack in the land below, and a thunder rolled from the mountain to the sea. The sky tore open and a great voice boomed out, “NO!”
Yhana straightened up proudly, and replied, “The burden is mine!” She walked to the stone, effortlessly lifted it off Julie’s back, and placed it upon her own. Julie dropped to her knees.
The seasons and the trees were immediately set right, and time passed as it always had.
“I could have held it,” cried Julie, as she gasped for breath.
“You could have,” replied Yhana, safely beneath her burden. “But the weight of this world is not for you. You relieved me for just a moment of your time, but for the kingdoms the cost is too high. See below the damage we have caused. I’ll be forever thankful to have had one moment to stretch, and I want to leave you with a gift.”
“Whatever it might be, I’ll be eternally grateful,” said Julie.
“Very well,” said Yhana. “My gift is to return you to your own village, bearing only your own stone, which you have carried this whole time. You thought it was lost, but I have hidden the stone inside you, next to your heart, and now it will glow hot when you hear truth and not lies. Listen to it. Your heart will burn brightly for you and it will harden when you need it to. Though at times it may be heavy, be thankful for your burden, for it makes you who you are.”
Julie thanked the sage woman and set home at once, grateful for the lessons she had learned along the way, and truly thankful indeed not to bear the weight of the world any longer.
And when she reached her village, and her neighbors asked her how she fared, she replied as usual:
“I’m very tired, but I’ll be just fine, thank you.”
And she was.
