A Fable About Boundaries

Long ago before the continents were sundered.

Before the deserts split apart and separated.

There was one desert, the First desert.

And on it prowled a pride of lions.

Golden, regal, and just.

The pride was lead by a chief.

And it was a happy pride.

They only hunted when they needed to.

Only killed that which they could eat.

And spent most of their time playing and lounging in the desert heat.

One day while patrolling his territory the chief came upon his brother.

His brother was covered in blood.

And around him were the corpses of an entire herd of oryx.

Shocked and dismayed the chief called out to his brother.

"Brother. What have you done. The pride is well fed. We are not in need. Why have you done this?"

His brother, with blood-mated fur grinned, and licked his lips.

"The Thrill brother. The Kill. The Power." 

And he raised his blood soaked face and roared up towards the heavens.

"Enough." the chief responded "You are sick. Seek help. You cannot go on like this"

And for a time the Sick One was quiet.

The chief tried to help his brother.

The elders tried to help him.

The pride as a whole tried to help him.

But the Sick One did not want to be helped.

And change must come from within.

Some time later the chief came upon his brother again.

This time the Sick One was standing over the bodies of a mother elephant and her two calves.

Before the chief could speak the Sick One began to growl.

"I am Death. My whim, my will, control these barren plains. All will fear me, all will come to know my power."

The chief shook his massive head sadly. "No, brother.

You are sick. You are lost. You have forgotten joy and the balanced path the pride treads.

You are banished. You are no longer welcome. No longer a part of the pride.

You are my brother. I love you but no more can I or the pride endure your sickness.

I hope you find healing somewhere. It pains me you could not find it here.

Goodbye."

And the Sick One walked into the desert alone.