The jungle in the middle divides the two races. For centuries now they have not known of each other's existence. No one ventures beyond the dark fork in the jungle. It has been said that on both edges of the jungle, on both sides it is perfectly symmetric. They are the perfect mirror image of each other. The West side of the forest has a dark fork once travellers have passed the bubbling purple brook, on the East side it is exactly the same. No one has seen the source of the stream which according to oldwives tale has no beginning and no end. Rumor has it that if you went beyond that dark fork, you would never find your way back. And it was the entrance into some darker realm. THe fear was so powerful and held so many hostage that no one ever dared find out for certain what laid at the heart of the jungle.

Legend has it that there used to be two kinds of people who walked the earth and had lived in harmony, each the complement of the other in some way. They are meant to complete the lacks and flaws of each other. To the two races divided and without knowledge of the other, the other was just a myth, a fairytale. To the West of the jungle, war is raging. War has been constantly raging, the world there has turned altogether dark, grey and brown. Always the smell of burning and fire and war songs, shootings, explosions. THe stink of trenches, the world in grey. To the East, the tribe lived by pure instincts, songs and dances. The words-- history, civilization has lost their meaning. Language have long evaporated on both edges of the jungle. Strength on one side and the body in motion on the other side of the jungle were the rules.

A young soldier running from battle on a certain fateful day from one side of the jungle, traversed the dark fork. A young tribe dancer from the other end crossed the forbidden boundary while on a hunt. THey came to the heart of the jungle, in wihch laid a smooth lake like a mirror, bathed in mysterious moonlight, the sun was still high in the sky except the mysterious gleam of the moon shone slyly on the lake and the pair. It was both night and day, and time stood still for the moment. They looked at each other both in disbelief and in an old familiarity as if they have known each other for the longest time. As if time had a past tense in whcih both existed. Confronting the other, they have only heard of in legends and myths. THey faced each other like miror images of the same, freed of the vestiges of their differences. They stepped into the gleaming pool of mercury. The tribal dancer cleaned the blood off the soldier's face, and the soldier wiped the paint from the dancer's body. Then honest in their ntaural state they stood in front of each other. THey explored the other's body without shame. They were different. They were the same. They discovered the nuances of the body, the little spaces in between, the places where water may fall in and be contained, or places of the body that became extensions of the being in space.

An ancient source of wisdom teaches the couple what to do. How to dance an ancient dance-- a ritual of life. The source of the river opens glows a magnificent green, silver and gold. They can see that they are standing on the source of the river of life and the end of it. They need to reach the core of the other, reach out and unlock the person on the other side of the mirror. IF the dancer overwhelms the warrior,a boy will be born, if the warrior overwhelms the dancer a girl will be born. The life being will enter the river and follow its trial to its mysertious end. The couple continues to struggle--coming together and pulling apart. At the side of the pool, a hermaphrodite--the gaurdian of the lake watches with a knowing smile.