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The story of the White Dragon Pagoda

Here is a myth from a forgotten mountain kingdom. It lay in a great valley between three treacherous mountain ridges. Few ever managed to cross the mountains, but the people had everything they needed in the valley.

The rulers and rich men of the valley would show their greatness by the construction of majestic towers. The cities of the valley were filled with castles and with temples. They could be seen from miles away.

When the valley was united under one ruler, the first king ordered that a tower be built that would stand taller than any in the land. A tower so tall that it would never be surpassed. It was to be called the white dragon pagoda. Construction began, and proceeded rapidly. When the tower reached new heights, a great feast was organized in celebration.

Weeks after, the builders revolted. They ceased construction, and demolished the tower. The king was furious, and the builders were executed. New builders were brought in from far away and started again, this time under strict supervision from the military.

Construction proceeded slowly, and again, some weeks after they surpassed the tallest tower in the valley, the builders revolted. The military quashed the rebellion and stopped the builders from tearing the structure down. But not all builders had been captured, and the remaining few soon managed to break into the pagoda, and to demolish the pillars that carried its weight.

The king, again, had the builders executed. He ordered the military to restart the construction. The soldiers learned as they worked. No craftsmen were allowed near the site. Work proceeded very slowly, often restarting. After many years, the tower was set to reach the height where the builders had mutinied. The king was now old and ill. With few soldiers left to defend its borders his kingdom had shrunk to a single city, and the rest of the valley was once again a collection of city-states.

The king asked to be taken up to the tower as construction continued. Each day, he would be carried up the steps, and each day he would watch as the soldiers laid brick after brick. Then, one early morning as the sun rose, work suddenly stopped and the soldiers gathered at the edge. The king ordered that they continue, but all were deaf to his commands.

The king rose and pushed his way angrily through the mass. Looking out over the edge he saw what had caused the soldiers to halt. The tower was now tall enough to see over the ridge of mountains surrounding the kingdom. Beyond it, they saw the expanse of a thousand silver mountain peaks. In all the valleys below, there were a thousand different cities each with a thousand little towers. All of them stood about the same height as their own.

Below them was their own city, gray and filthy, poor and miserable. Filled with little towers.

As one, the soldiers descended on the king and cast him off the tower. All towers in the city were torn down.

For a time, the people lived in peace. But soon, of course, the city was invaded. The new king saw the paltry, humble houses of the once proud city kingdom and declared that a great tower be built. A celebration of a new era.