There were once three brothers who lived together at the foot of a mountain, and their life was guided by the Sun. Every morning, they would rise before dawn, climb to a place overlooking their home, and reverently offer prayers. As the first sunlight spilled across the world, their hearts would be filled with strength and confidence, and after that they could cheerfully work all day without tiring, conscious of the warmth and generosity pouring upon them from above. In the evening, they would ascend the mountain once more to pray, and as the eye of the day gently closed, their hearts would become peaceful, all care and trouble fading like a dream.
   One morning, as they went through the cool air to pray, they were surprised to see something bright up above on the mountain side, a drop of gold in the dark like a piece of the Sun itself.
   Coming closer, they saw that it was a magnificent golden bird that shone with its own radiance. The bird hailed them politely, saying, "Fortunate men! I come from the Sun with an invitation for you. Know that your prayers have found favour, and you are all three invited to visit the Court of my Master, the King."
   The brothers were astonished. "But we are only mortals. How could we go to the Sun's Court?"
   In reply, the bird pulled three shining feathers from its breast, and laid them on the ground. "These will take you there," said the bird, "as quickly as light. Keep them and guard them, and when you are ready to make the journey, the feather will bear you without trouble all the way to the Palace of the Sun."
   Then the bird leapt into the sky and was gone.
   Each brother took one of the feathers and hid it carefully inside his clothing, near his heart. Then, as was their custom, they offered their prayers, but when they finished, they remained a while on the mountain to talk about what had happened. One said, "Brothers, how shall we know when we are ready for this journey?"
   "The invitation itself is the answer," said the oldest brother. "We are ready now. If we were not ready, the Sun would not have invited us. Therefore, tonight, instead of resting I will stay here through the darkness in prayer, and at first light, I will use the bright feather to go to the Court of the Sun."
   And it was so: that night the older brother stayed on the mountain, keeping a vigil and praying, and when the first rays of light shot towards him from the far horizon, he held the gleaming feather out toward the Sun. Instantly, he was hurtling through the air at a tremendous speed, faster than even the wind.
   At first, he could only marvel at how he flew, and the way the mighty power of the Sun drew him. After a time, though, he began to feel that he was not alone. Looking about, he saw behind him his shadow.
   "Go back," he told the shadow. "How can a patch of darkness like you think of going to the Court of the Sun?"
   "But how could I ever leave you?" the shadow replied. "It is you yourself who make me."
   "There it is light, and you are dark," insisted the brother. "Go back."
   "Do not worry," the shadow replied. "If the Sun invited you to his Court, he surely invited me, too."
   And though the man did not feel easy in his heart about the shadow accompanying him, he could think of no way of ridding himself of the darkness.
   At last the feather brought him to the bottom of a long, wide stairway running up to the great gates of the palace of the Sun. The stairs shone like golden fire, so bright that he could not look at them, and the walls and gates of the palace were even brighter. On the bottom step stood two tall, noble-looking guards, like pillars of light. Each carried a long, golden lance from which streamed a banner of bright cloud, and at his belt each had a long sword in a golden scabbard, with bright jewels sparkling on the hilt.
   When the brother alighted, he looked uncertainly at the guards, but upon seeing the feather they bowed respectfully and stepped back, making way for him to pass. Preparing to mount the stairs, though, he felt something holding him, and looking down, he saw that his shadow, like a small black stain, was pinned under the butt of one guard's lance.
   The brother felt terribly ashamed to have brought his shadow into the realm of light. He was about to step down again, but before he could move, the guard lifted his lance and flicked the darkness away from the stairs - and as it went spinning, the brother felt himself pulled with it out into the vast empty space that surrounded the palace. And then he fell, and fell, landing at last in a strange land far from his own.
   Only many months later did the oldest brother, weary from long travel, return home. When his brothers asked him if he had been to the Court of the Sun, and what he had seen there, he answered with a sad look, "Brothers, there is some mystery in the invitation of the Sun. No shadow is welcome in his palace - and as we are flesh and blood, how can we help but have a shadow? I do not see how we can ever go there."
   After long thought, the middle brother said, "The Sun would not deceive us. We have trusted Him always, and He has always been good and true. If we have been invited, we are surely meant to go. But the bird said, 'When you are ready.'" Perhaps there is some special knowledge we need, or some training. Tomorrow I will set out to look for someone who can teach me what we need to know, and I will not return until I have an answer to our question."
   And so it was: the next morning, after joining his brothers in their prayers, the middle brother said farewell, and went to seek for the knowledge needed to make the journey to the Sun.
   Many months passed before they saw the middle brother again. Then one night, as the other two returned home from evening prayers they found him waiting for them. The oldest drew him into the lamplight and carefully looked around him, hoping to find no shadow, but the middle brother sadly shook his head. "It is still there," he told them, and then added, with sorrow in his voice, "There is no one in the world who can teach us to be free of our shadows. And what is worse, I no longer have the feather."
   Then he told them the story of his travels: how he had gone from place to place, searching for someone who had the knowledge he sought. "Many strange people I met," he said, "some powerful, some mysterious, some learned, some clever. One knew ten thousand verses praising the Sun, and another could hold fire on his lips without harm. Still another knew the names of the colours that even the rainbow does not show. Those I met were willing to teach, but always for a price—and what did I have except the feather? The light it gave made it more precious than gold—and in search of knowledge I sold one piece after another, until it was gone." The middle brother sighed deeply. "Now I have neither knowledge, nor the precious feather. Now I have nothing at all."
   The youngest brother was very sad that his older brothers had been unable to succeed, and he himself had no idea what to do. He decided to keep the feather safe, and wait until some idea came to him. Therefore he built a small stone hut up on the mountainside, in which he placed the shining feather for safekeeping, and he made the hut without windows, so that he could more clearly see the beautiful light that it gave. Here he would come whenever he was able, and sit, contemplating the feather and admiring its softly changing radiance, for the feather altered like the Sun in the sky, sometimes shining bright and clear, and other times more gently. And if, as happens to all, the brother had some trouble in his life, he found that just by speaking of it in the presence of the feather, his burden would become lighter, and he would leave the hut with hope in his heart.
   One day, after many years had passed, while the youngest brother was sitting and gazing at the beauty of the feather, a thought stole into his heart: each day I long to make the journey to the Palace of the Sun, he thought, but perhaps this feather, which grew in the breast of the Sun's own messenger, also wishes to make that journey. Surely it must miss its master! And suddenly the hut seemed a dark, cold place, and the brother felt ashamed that he had selfishly kept the feather closed away there so long.
   Tenderly, he picked the feather up and said to it, you have been my friend and companion for so long, but I cannot keep you from your home. Go now, if you wish, and if the Sun is gracious I shall hope one day to meet you there. Then he went to the door, and opened it, and holding the feather in his cupped hands, brought it out into the warm sunlight.
   The Sun filled his hands, and it seemed as if the feather gratefully drank in the light and warmth, so that it glowed more brightly than ever, and when he saw that, something happened to the brother: It felt as though the same light began to glow in his own heart, and the more joyfully the feather shone, the more his own heart shone in response.
   After a long time, when it seemed he had forgotten where he stood, and even who he was, the dazed and dazzled brother realized that the feather was no longer there. He now stood empty handed. And yet he felt no loss, for within his own breast it seemed as if the Sun itself now shone with a radiance that nothing could dim.
   Slowly, he went down the hillside, leaving the door of the little hut ajar, and from that day on never felt the need to go there again. Nor did he yearn any more to visit the palace of the Sun; he knew the invitation of the Sun had been fulfilled, for he had at last understood that such a journey can be made without ever leaving one's home.