ONCE upon a time, there was a small Kingdom in the South Seas. It was a peaceful place where many peoples of many different colours lived together. By and large, they were happy. There was plenty to eat in this Kingdom and there were lots to do. Some of the people liked to dance, some liked to sing, some liked to tell stories. A few even did all three. And of course there were many who liked to watch those singing, dancing and telling stories. There were some who thought that singing and dancing were forbidden, so they did not do these things. Instead they tended to stay at home or group together and chant instead. Chanting was okay. Everyone did their own thing and all was good. The trouble started one day when a young man from the Chanters said that he wanted to sing. This was a rare occurrence indeed. By the Law of the Land, laid many ages ago by the Wise Fathers of the Kingdom, it was his choice to do so. Unfortunately, the Chanters were not happy with this. They said that “if you don’t want to chant any more, you will be killed.” The boy was scared but he knew that the Law of the Land would protect him. He went to the Castle of Justice and asked the Lords of Law to protect him. But the Lords of Law were scared of the Chanters. They were afraid that the Chanters would say they too were deviant and thus deserved to be killed. Instead of helping the boy, they turned him away. They slammed the doors of the Castle of Justice, they raised the drawbridge, they shuttered the windows and they blocked up the chimneys. (Legend has it they are still there today, choking in their blinding smoke, unable to see the light any more.) The boy then ran to the people for help. He went to the Singers and the Dancers and the Storytellers and even some kindly Chanters. They all agreed to help him. They said: “We will go all around the Kingdom and remind the people of the Law.” And so they did. Many people in the Kingdom went to listen to the boy and his friends and many agreed with them. “It is only right.” they thought, “that if you want to sing, or dance or chant, it should be your choice. Once you start threatening those who don’t believe like you, where will it end?” One Chanter said that even among the Chanters, there were differing opinions. Some said that chanting should be done slowly; others said it should be done quickly. Some chanted with drums, others just chanted with voices. They were all Chanters, but what if one group decided the others were wrong and deviant and threatened to kill them? It was agreed that the Law of the Land made by the Wise Fathers was good. For it was this law that protected everyone. It made sure that everyone could live their lives the way they wanted without having to live in fear; without having another belief system forced unto them. Yes, even the Chanters. For what if one day, it was not the Chanters who wanted to force their will on others? What if one day it was the Singers, the Storytellers or the Dancers? But this simple logic was lost on many of the Chanters. One day, they decided that enough was enough and they attacked the boy and his friends. Every time the boy tried to state his case, they shouted at him. They told him that he was a Chanter and that was that. Their shouting got so loud that it scared the other people of the Kingdom. They were so scared that they stopped singing, dancing, and storytelling. A hush settled on the Kingdom. It was a silence born of fear. The only sound that was heard was chanting. And occasionally the sob of a dancer whose feet were too fearful to move, or a singer whose tune was lost in the cacophony of terror, or a storyteller who could find nothing to say as dread had gripped his throat. One day, amidst the chanting, there was a different voice. People pricked their ears. It was chanting, but it was slightly different. There was just the edge of melody to it. It swirled and it dipped, high and tremulous one moment, low and sonorous the next. It told of wonderful things. It was the most beautiful sound that anyone had heard. The people smiled and slowly they started to get into the rhythm of this strange single voice. Mothers would cuddle their babies; sweethearts would hold hands, and friends would sit together enjoying the harmony and the communion that this new voice brought. Then, just as the light was shining in people’s eyes once more and hope was taking its first bashful step into their lives, they heard a terrible, terrible scream of pain. And all was silent once more.