Perusina and Perusino Meet Inti

The Light of the Sun God

Once upon a time, in a land high up in the mountains, the peaks were so tall that clouds sometimes got caught on them. The people called this land Peru.

In a small village nestled among fields, rocks, and ancient paths lived Perusina and Perusino. They were siblings, as curious as two cheeky hummingbirds and brave enough to ask questions others preferred not to.

Perusina was a very attentive listener. Perusino was a very precise eater. Both were useful while traveling, though Perusina thought Perusino sometimes overused his talent.

One evening, the sun slowly disappeared behind the mountains. The sky turned orange, then red, then violet. The first stars twinkled over the village.

Perusina sat in front of an ancient stone that had been there for a long time. It was smooth, heavy, and mysterious. Perusino knocked on it.

“Maybe there's someone inside,” he said.

Perusina gave him a stern look. “That's an ancient Inca stone. You don't just knock on it like a door.”

“Maybe it's been waiting for visitors for centuries.”

Then they heard it. A soft whisper came from the stones. It sounded like wind rustling through dry corn leaves.

“Perusina,” Perusino whispered, “if stones talk, should we answer?”

“Only politely,” said Perusina.

The whispering grew stronger. It led them out of the village, past small walls, along a narrow path and into a forest. Leaves rustled above them. Somewhere a twig snapped.

“It was just an animal,” said Perusina.

“Or a tree in a bad mood,” mumbled Perusino.

After a while, they came to a hidden clearing. It was silent there. No bird called. No beetle buzzed. Even Perusino's stomach only rumbled very cautiously.

In the middle of the clearing, a radiant light suddenly appeared. It was warm and bright, but it didn't blind them. It felt like a sunbeam that had brought a blanket.

From the light emerged a majestic figure. He wore a golden crown that looked like sunbeams. His robe glowed warmly, and his eyes were kind and strong at the same time.

Perusina knew immediately who stood before them. “Inti,” she whispered.

Perusino's eyes widened. “The Sun God?”

The figure nodded. “Yes. I am Inti.”

Perusino bowed so quickly that he almost fell over. “Good evening, High Sun.”

Perusina nudged him slightly. “You don't say High Sun.”

Inti smiled. “Today, I'll allow it.”

His voice was gentle, yet powerful. It didn't roll loudly across the clearing. It simply filled it.

“Perusina and Perusino,” Inti said, “I have been watching you. You are curious. You have courage. And you have hearts that can still listen.”

Perusino looked at Perusina. “The listening part, you mean her more, right?”

Inti laughed. His laughter sounded like sunlight on water.

“I want to show you something,” he said.

He raised his hands. Warm light enveloped the children. The forest disappeared. The clearing became a golden circle. Then Perusina and Perusino felt themselves becoming lighter.

When they opened their eyes again, they stood on the highest peak of the Andes. Below them, the land stretched out like a giant colorful blanket.

They saw green valleys, brown mountain ridges, deep gorges, and silvery rivers. In the distance, ancient cities and terraced fields sparkled.

Perusino clung to Perusina. “Are we very high?”

“Very,” said Perusina.

“If I drop a kernel of corn now, will it take until tomorrow?”

“You're not dropping anything.”

Inti stepped beside them. “Do you see this land? Many people lived here a long time ago. The Incas worshipped the sun because it gives light, warmth, and life.”

Perusina looked at the fields. “Nothing grows without the sun.”

“Exactly,” said Inti. “The sun helped the corn, the potatoes, and the people. It reminded everyone that life needs care.”

Perusino nodded earnestly. “Even food needs care.”

“That's even true,” said Inti.

Perusina looked at her brother in surprise. “For the first time, that was a good sentence.”

“I collect such moments,” Perusino said proudly.

Inti pointed to the horizon. There, a rainbow touched the earth. At its end, a golden temple glittered.

“What is that?” asked Perusina.

“A Temple of the Sun,” said Inti. “People built places where they gave thanks, prayed, and remembered the power of the sun.”

“Is it made of real gold?” asked Perusino.

“Some temples were richly adorned,” said Inti. “But the most important thing was not the gold.”

Perusino looked doubtful. “Are you sure?”

“Absolutely,” said Inti. “The most important thing was the meaning. The sun stood for life, order, and connection.”

Perusina gazed at the golden temple for a long time. “So the Incas didn't just admire you. They understood that nothing begins without light.”

Inti nodded. “And that light means responsibility.”

“How can light mean responsibility?” asked Perusino.

“Those who receive light should not keep it only for themselves,” said Inti. “They should use it to help others see their way.”

Perusino thought. This time it took longer than usual. Then he said, “So a lantern is nice if you share it.”

“Very good,” said Inti.

Perusina smiled. “You're really collecting good sentences today.”

Suddenly a shadow passed over the valley. A cloud moved in front of the sun. It grew cooler.

Perusino hunched his shoulders. “Did someone turn off the sun?”

Inti raised a hand. “Clouds are also part of the world. No light always shines the same way. That's why people must learn to give each other warmth.”

The cloud moved on. The light returned.

“You are still children,” said Inti. “But you have a task.”

Perusina became completely silent. “What task?”

“You are to preserve stories,” said Inti. “Not because they are old. But because they connect people.”

Perusino looked concerned. “Do we have to memorize them all?”

“No,” said Inti. “But you should listen. Ask questions. And tell them in a way that other children understand.”

“With a bit of nonsense?” asked Perusino.

Inti looked at him seriously. “A little bit of nonsense helps the heart. Too much nonsense makes the story stumble.”

Perusina nodded. “We'll remember that.”

Inti knelt before them. Two small golden feathers detached from his light. They floated slowly down to the children.

One feather landed in Perusina's hand. The other landed on Perusino's nose.

He squinted down. “My feather got lost.”

Inti laughed softly. “Then it found you well.”

Perusino carefully took the feather in his hand.

“These feathers will remind you,” said Inti, “that a piece of sunlight lives within you. Not for showing off. But for helping.”

Perusina held her feather tight. It felt warm, but not hot.

“If you are afraid,” said Inti, “think of the light. If you get lost, don't just look for the path ahead of you. Also look for the courage within you.”

“And if we're hungry?” asked Perusino.

Inti was silent for a moment. “Then eat something.”

“Very wise,” Perusino said reverently.

Perusina had to laugh. The mountain wind carried her laughter over the rocks.

Then the world began to glow again. The peak blurred. The golden temple grew smaller. Valleys, rivers, and mountains spun like a dream of light.

When Perusina and Perusino could see properly again, they stood in the clearing in the forest. The sun had disappeared. The moon was in the sky.

Everything was quiet. Only a cricket chirped, as if it had been waiting for its cue all evening.

Perusina opened her hand. The golden feather lay in it.

“So it wasn't a dream,” she said.

Perusino opened his hand as well. His feather was also there.

“Or a dream with a souvenir,” he said.

They walked back to the village. The old stones stood quietly in the moonlight again. But this time they no longer seemed silent. They seemed to be waiting.

In front of their hut, Perusina stopped. “We have to tell the stories of Peru.”

“To all children?” asked Perusino.

“To all who want to listen.”

Perusino nodded. “Then we need many stories.”

“And many good questions.”

“And provisions.”

“Of course,” said Perusina. “Without provisions, you become unbearable.”

“I call it cultural preparation.”

Later, they lay in their beds. Through the window, they saw a particularly bright star. It twinkled warmly, almost golden.

Perusina held the feather under her blanket. “Do you think Inti sees us?”

Perusino yawned. “If he's the sun god, he probably sees a lot. Hopefully not when I'm secretly eating cornbread.”

Perusina smiled tiredly. “Good night, Perusino.”

“Good night, Perusina.”

Outside, the star continued to shine. The mountains stood quietly under the sky. The old stones preserved their stories.

And somewhere, far above the peaks, Inti smiled. Because two little children had understood that light doesn't just shine.

It guides, warms, and reminds.

(c) by ToPet