Once upon a time, in the first age of man, there lived a goodly king; strong, kind and fair. Beloved by his people, he governed them wisely.

Many a maiden harboured a secret passion for the king, though he had taken no wife and desired none, caring for his subjects only.

What no one knew was that not only his people were enamoured with the king. The wind herself had fallen in love with him.

The wind had born witness to all the lives of men but until the arrival of the goodly king, she had been ignorant of love.

And happily so, for since she had been ensnared in love's desolate web, she had known neither peace nor comfort.

As a boy, the goodly king was enchanted by flame. Great bonfires were constructed in the gardens of the palace for his pleasure.

He would roast chestnuts in fire's crackling heart and dance merrily about her blazing waist, the flames leaping and twirling by his side.

The wind would stand watch over the boy king devotedly, fanning the flames for his delight and keeping the smoke from his delicate lungs.

She watched him grow day by day and so her love grew also, but the goodly king perceived her not and cared only for the fire.

As a youth, the goodly king's passion for fire grew cold and he became bewitched by the mystery of the ever changing sea.

With the blessing of the court, he set out on a great voyage to the furthest reaches of the globe that he might slake his lust for the ocean.

Though he loved the sea it bore him indifferently, sparing no measure of tenderness in the balmy shoals nor cruelty in the midnight tempest.

Still the wind never left his side though her heart was heavy at his obsession with the waves. She filled his sails through becalmed waters.

She held back the raging violence of the unrepentant surf and saw him safely through the storm, guarding and guiding with immaterial hands.

The goodly king grew strong and brave and the wind watched over him keenly, though he perceived her not and cared only for the sea.

Once sated, he returned a man both tall and fair and set his passion to the land, embarking on great works to improve the lives of his people.

Under the goodly king's direction his lands were properly planted and homes of decent proportion with good thatched roofs built for all.

At his counsel great libraries and houses of learning were constructed and with each new improvement, his love of the land grew within him.

Pridefully wind watched the goodly king transform the land he loved; his people grow worshipful. She applied herself also without restraint.

She carried the rains from the barren mountains to the farmlands in the fertile valley and cleared the way for the sun's nurturing gaze.

Under her meticulous care the land grew prosperous; fields filled with corn, meadows replete with flowers, air thick with fragrance and song.

The wind stood beside him night and day, whispering his name sorrowfully, but he perceived her not and she grew heavy with grief.

“Dance with me sister,” said flame, “and he will see you”.
“No” said wind.

“Sing with me sister,” said ocean, “and he could not ignore you”.
“Never” said wind.

“I am manifold, sister,” said land, “blow his kingdom to dust that I might give back his heart. I have no care for it.”
But wind refused.

When the goodly king died, wind gathered his last breath into her heart tenderly, carrying it with her through all the ages of the world.