In the ethereal realm of Cloud Land, where the ever-shifting mists and celestial wonders held sway, dwelled Nambi, a radiant soul who decided to embark on a sojourn to Earth. Her departure stirred the Cloud King, Gulu, to convene a grand council, a gathering of friends from distant corners of the sky.
To extend his invitations, Gulu dispatched special messengers. The responsibility fell upon the Bat to summon the illustrious Sun, while the Dove, a creature of grace and diligence, was tasked with inviting the Moon. As fate would have it, the Dove soared swiftly, delivering its message with utmost precision, ensuring the timely arrival of the Moon.
However, the Bat, known for its wayward tendencies, proved to be a reluctant messenger. The creature dallied on its journey, frolicking at every twist and turn, oblivious to the ticking of time. The appointed hour for the council arrived, and the Sun, the most distinguished guest, was notably absent.
In an attempt to rectify the situation, the Dove was dispatched once more, this time to summon the Sun. Despite the Sun’s prompt response, the council had already commenced. The Sun, somewhat perplexed, explained that the initial message had failed to reach its radiant abode. In the meantime, a search party located the Bat, trussed up like a captive, having played the truant on its mission.
The Sun, perturbed by the Bat’s negligence, expressed vehement displeasure, proclaiming, “If ever I see you again, I will kill you.” The Cloud King, in the aftermath of this chaotic prelude, decided to distribute gifts among the gathered celestial company.
The Moon received a resplendent cloak of silver, a token of the Cloud King’s favor. Gulu charged the Moon with the duty of casting its gentle glow upon the Earth during the night. This luminous gift was intended to provide light for Nambi’s earthly wanderings and to elicit joyous celebrations among her progeny.
The Sun, in turn, was bestowed with a cloak of gleaming gold. The Cloud King directed the Sun to enrobe itself daily in this golden mantle to shield the Earth from its scorching rays. The Sun’s benevolent rays were tasked with nurturing the growth of trees, gardens, and flowers, and fostering the vitality of Earth’s children.
Once the council concluded, and the celestial guests departed with their gifts, the Sun, true to its word, sought out the Bat. However, the cunning Bat had eluded capture, finding refuge in the hidden recesses of the cosmos. It cunningly concealed itself, and no search party could uncover its whereabouts.
Since that fateful day, bats, descendants of that evasive messenger, have harbored an instinctual fear of the Sun. They skulk in the shadows, residing beneath rooftops and in darkened nooks throughout the day. Only at the waning hours, when the Sun dips below the horizon, do they cautiously emerge, peeking out of their sanctuaries. It has become a learned behavior, passed down through generations, and at the first light of dawn, every bat hastens home to its secluded haven, evading the Sun’s gaze.
Should any audacious young bat tarry too long and find itself exposed to the Sun’s ire, it faces a dire consequence, a stark reminder of the Sun’s wrath incurred by the indolence of its forebear. Thus, the tale endures, a celestial fable cautioning against idleness and impressing upon generations the importance of timeliness and responsibility.
