Tales of Colour

In Search of Colour

There was a world where Colour was forbidden. The ruler of this world, named Unmaker or Blinder, decreed that any word or even thought of Colour deserved the penalty of torture and death. Or worse.

“There’s an Enforcer about asking after the boy who mutters of Colour.” The whisper sent a prickle down the big lad’s spine. “I warned you, Lief.  Now we’ll have to run for it.”

“Not ‘we’, Spin. You’re safe enough.” Lief paused. “I’ll try to reach the Hole at the north end of the city. It should be easy enough to find.”

“I’m coming with you! If you think I’m sticking around here to put up with those snotty Squire’s boys by myself, you’ve lost any sense you started out with! Besides, I’ve been closer to the Hole than you and I know the city. I can help you find it. Anyway,” he added with a smile at his large, muscular friend, “you need someone to take care of you.”

Lief swallowed, relieved at Spin’s decision. But he only punched him on the shoulder and muttered, “Take care of me indeed, Runt.”

The two boys looked at each other in the pale light coming from the two torches in their brackets at the door to the hall where Squires’ boys slept. They both knew this meant the end to their life ambitions. Spin felt his dream of being a Knight crumple up into a hard ball in his throat and scratch him there until his eyes watered. Only a few more months and he could have taken the tests that, if passed well, would have taken him the next step and made him a Squire.

Lief refused to let completely go of his dream to be a weapons maker. But he packed it away in a deep part of his heart and closed the door. In his stolid way he went about gathering his few precious bits and pieces and packing them into a sturdy canvas bag.

The boys slung their bags over their shoulders, grabbed lumps of dry bread on their way past the kitchen, and started their journey to a place that was only rumour wrapped about with fear.

They took deep breaths and walked across the courtyard, past the well where they filled their skins and into the stables. Spin took a moment to say good-bye to his Squire’s two horses, feeling his eyes again burning with tears. Lief simply patted his Squire’s horses on the way past. They left the stables through the back door and began moving carefully down the alley.

The lads had to cross most of the city to reach the Slum area below the Hole. A tingle of excitement mixed liberally with fear ran down Spin’s back. He had been just about everywhere in Dramor City during his years on the streets, but he had never been through the Hole. Some said it was a haven for people in trouble. Others said it was populated with nameless horrors that grabbed any who went near and sucked the life out of them, leaving only husks behind. The only thing known for sure was that none of the Blinder’s followers dared enter it. It was for this reason the boys had automatically picked it as their goal, the only place of safety within reach for those the Enforcers sought.

Several hours later they crouched in the deepest shadows they could find. They were in a narrow, muddy alley, behind a pile of refuse. They kept their breath steady with an effort, then held it as they saw the eerie glow of an Enforcer’s search wand. It paused at the entrance to their alley, playing over the cobblestones for muddy footprints. Then there was a rattle in the next street and the glow moved suddenly to find its source.

The two boys let their breaths out and gulped their lungs full of air. A few minutes later they were on the edge of Slave Park, Spin in the lead, making their way carefully past the scraggly vegetation that was the only sign of growing things in the north half of Dramor City. They squeezed past the prickly leaves, following the short wall around to the north. They were almost to the edge of Slave Slough. Spin had forgotten the rotten smell of its rank waters.

This part of the city was wretched. It would remain dingy grey even in full daylight. Outcasts, thieves and cut-throats lived here among the smells and garbage. Even Enforcers came to Slave Slum only when they had to. The two boys kept their hands near their daggers, senses alert for the slightest sound.

Spin reached the end of the wall. Here the Park met the Slough. Beyond where they stood were several yards of swampy ground and then the filthy lake.

“We’ve got to go through there and around the top end of the Slough,” Spin whispered, trying to breathe through his mouth to cut down the odour.

They moved out, sinking immediately up to their ankles. The sludge sucked at their feet, and at each step foul gas escaped from the muck. Soon they were up to their shins and barely able to lift their feet out to take the next step. The gas was making them light headed and ill.

Spin wondered if torture might not be better than living near this. Was the Hole like this? Or worse? He was fast remembering why he had not frequented this area very much.

“To the left now,” he muttered. “This muck should get shallower.”

They struggled to the left and slowly the foul mud receded, until it reached only to their ankles again. Finally, with the last of their strength they reached firm ground and collapsed, panting, their legs feeling like lead.

It seemed like only seconds later that Spin clutched his friend’s arm and put a finger to his lips, telling him in the darkness to be quiet. Lief nodded and Spin removed his finger.

“It was near here, Jog. You can smell where he disturbed the Mud.” The voice was coarse and low.

“Hush then, fool, or you’ll warn him. Maybe he’s the one the Greedyguts want.”

Spin felt a shiver run over his skin. ‘Greedyguts’ was slang for Enforcers. The news had travelled fast.

The muttering came very close and then moved off to their right. And stopped.

Spin felt Lief shift as if he were about to move and pinched him quickly. He leaned close to his friend until his mouth was next to Lief’s ear and, knowing how clearly sibilant sounds carried at night near water, lisped quietly, “They’re lithening.”

An age went by while the boys’ muscles cramped and the sweat trickled down their cheeks. Then something tickled the back of Spin’s hand where it rested on the ground. Only his years of street living, his freedom dependant on stealth, kept him from jumping or shaking it off. His heart thudded, loud in his ears. Lief had no such training and was low on patience. Spin squeezed his friend’s arm tightly, trying to convey his warning.

Lief was almost ready to scream. He was used to running straight at a problem, knocking it aside and carrying on. This silence and tension was stretching his nerves to breaking. Then something tickled his cheek and he jumped and slapped his face without thinking.

A satisfied grunt came from a bulky shadow. It split into two fast moving shadows which were on the boys quick as thought. But Spin had already shoved Lief and rolled in the opposite direction, his dagger in his hand, ready for work. He heard a grunt from Lief’s direction and barely dodged a kick aimed at his head. He felt his dagger hit then slice through something and swung again, rolling away. A curse. A dull gleam as something sharp slid by his shoulder, catching the fabric and slicing his flesh. Then everything was a whirl of silent rolling, feinting, lunging and dodging. Spin’s dagger connected several times. His opponent was not expecting someone as small as Spin and so over-judged his targets at first.

Suddenly a light flashed on and off to their left. Spin’s opponent swore and then was gone, a fading limping shadow swallowed by the larger ones of ambling walls and buildings. The other man had also gone.

Spin collapsed on his hands and knees, sucking in great gasps of air.

“Lief … you … OK?” he gasped. Silence.

“LIEF! …?”

A moan. “Dirty … mud … sucker … light-blinded .. oaf…”

Spin laughed in relief. Lief was OK.

“I think that was … a signal … Got to … get away …”

“Yeah …” Lief kept muttering under his breath as they rose and started to move away over the uneven terrain.

“This way … I think.” Spin hoped he had his directions right after the muddle of the fight. He ached in every muscle and felt blood from several wounds running slowly inside his clothes. They would leave a trail even a blind Legislator could follow if they were bleeding as much as he feared.

A few minutes later they heard distant voices behind them and, glancing back, saw the sick lights of Enforcers near the scene of the fight. But Spin was adept at hiding in the city at night and soon found them a hole where they could check their wounds.

He had to tear bits off his shirt to bind the places that were bleeding most, one cut on his left shoulder and another on his right thigh. The others were just nicks. Lief had a large gash on his forehead just under the hairline and his left forearm and hand were bleeding steadily, dripping off his fingers. They bound those wounds and Spin led them off in the opposite direction, back where they had come from.

He found a path that circled around the searchers (“Clumsy flat-footed louts,” he whispered) until they were on ground already searched. Then he headed north again. They desperately needed a safe place where they could rest and catch their breath and they needed to get as close to the Hole as possible.

Finally, Spin thought they were as close to the Hole as he could get them in the dark. He needed light to locate it exactly. The small tower should be just ahead. The Hole was supposed to be just beyond it.

The two crept through the black night, through the warren of the Slum. The constant fear of discovery gnawed at them, wearing down their determination, pulling at their exhausted feet. And their wounds weakened them. The sludge of the Slough dried on their legs becoming heavy and stiff, like the plaster builders used. They were becoming light-headed with fatigue, fear and blood loss.

It seemed to the boys that they had been walking, creeping, running and fighting the whole night. Finally, near collapse, Spin found what he was looking for – a hole amid crumbling rubble with quick exits in two directions.

Leaning back against the crumbling wall they had collapsed beside, Spin spoke. “The tower should be right around here but I can’t find the blasted thing in the dark. We’ll rest a bit. We will have to wait for light. It’s been a while since I was here …”  His voice faded off.

Despair settled heavy on them. If they didn’t find the Hole before light, and if the Enforcers kept searching until after light, they were finished. They would be easy game then.

They sat for a while in silence.

Spin dozed off, much to his chagrin. And he dreamed. In his dream there were Colours. The world was not the endless shades of grays it was in waking life. He woke sweating, as he always did after the dreams, with a profound sense of loss.

“Why would I dream of Colour, Lief, if there was no such thing?” he whispered, his voice shaded with despair and loss. “It is so beautiful! And clean! And pure! It’s so beautiful I can’t stand it. There has to be Colour somewhere. There just has to be!”

“Yeah, Spin. I believe you. I dream too, remember. That’s why we’re in this mess. I talked about my dream. We’ll find it together.” Lief paused. “Look! It’s starting to get lighter. We should be able to see the tower. Come on.”

The two pulled themselves to their feet, scrambled as quietly as possible from their hiding place and looked around. To their left, north, was an open space filled with crumbling walls and piles of debris, which they could barely make out. Beyond that rose a wall. It was higher than the buildings around it and would have been higher still but the upper floors had collapsed.

“The tower!” breathed Spin. He looked at Lief, his face breaking into a grin. “It must be! It’s about as tall as the Duke’s place! The Hole should be just beyond it.”

Lief hesitated then turned and spoke his doubts. “Spin, maybe we could make it, staying in the Slum. We lost the Enforcers last night. We could do it again and be safe here. The Hole, from all we’ve heard, could be worse.” He shuddered. “Trees that move, ghosts. Monster plants. They say that that’s where the dead go, Spin. And no one ever comes back.”

“I know, Lief. But they’re only rumours.” Spin grabbed his friend suddenly, “What if that’s where the Colours are Lief! It sure isn’t out here. Maybe …”

His voice trailed off. He turned his head, as if to catch the slightest sound.

Fear made his voice quaver. “Lief. Do you feel them? Cold! Icers! We’ve got to move! They’ll Numb us!”

Lief didn’t feel the cold yet but Spin had always been more sensitive that way. Horror spurred him on. He grabbed Spin’s hand and they moved at a stumbling run through the rubble toward the tower. At its base they turned to the left and then right again at the corner, trying to go around the crumbling pile.

Spin glanced back and saw the eerie trails of Enforcers’ wands playing over the ground where they had rested. They must have been closing in on them for a while. Then a dart of pure ice touched his mind, filling him with despair. He almost stopped but Lief yanked his arm, pulling him forcefully after him.

They reached the end of the wall. Across another open space, this time filled with garbage of all kinds, was a wall. It was half as tall as the tower. And straight ahead was a yawning blackness. The entrance to the Hole!

As they started across the garbage heap, search wands suddenly flicked on, catching them in the sick light that seemed to bring decay to everything they touched. The boys flinched as the light touched them, feeling filth cling to every pore. Enforcers were moving slowly toward them from east and west. Others were behind. They had waited here and herded them into this trap with the skill of hunters.

Again Spin felt ice numb his brain as he caught sight of a larger metallic grey figure behind the Enforcers on the right. “Cold …,” he muttered.

Lief desperately pulled his smaller friend after him toward the Hole. For every two steps they took forward the garbage slid from under them and moved them a step back. It was a nightmare come real. Running, running desperately and getting nowhere. Only Lief’s strength pulled them on.

They were within two steps of the Hole when an Enforcer’s claw-like finger slashed through Spin’s tunic and the soft flesh between his shoulder and neck. The horror of the contact broke the icy spell clinging to Spin’s mind. He yelled as loud as he could, “Colour!  Colour!”

Silence exploded, smothering everything. The Enforcer was flung to the ground. Lief and Spin stumbled through the hole in the wall. They managed a few steps then fell their length on the ground, totally spent.

Spin heard the sound of an iron gate slamming shut, then passed out.

When he came to, he looked into the eyes of a young man dressed in … in a Coloured tunic! He couldn’t believe his eyes. He reached a trembling hand to touch the tunic. It was soft and strong. Is that what Colour felt like? He looked back at the man’s face. Colour! Colour in his eyes! and hair!

Spin suddenly recalled all the horror stories. Anyone who thought of or  claimed to know Colour was defiled … and doomed. He shrunk back.

The man laughed. “Yes, it’s true!  Colour!” Then he went on as if reciting a litany of hope, “There is Colour. Colour is real. We love Colour here in the Vale.”

At the boys’ puzzled looks the man smiled again. “I guess you call this the Hole. I prefer ‘Vale’.” He cocked his head to one side. “You boys had a narrow escape. But you’re safe now. No Enforcer or Icer dares enter the Vale.”

His voice and words seemed to spread a peace over the two exhausted boys. They felt themselves relaxing and began to look around. They were on a path that ran between large trees. Healthy trees! There were more trees behind those … and more! Spin had never imagined so many trees in the whole world! And the sky above the path! It was … Colour. It wasn’t the same light grey sky they had seen all their lives.

Spin looked back at the man and said shyly, “I’ve seen that … that Colour before.”

The man was surprised. “Have you?”

“In my dreams. I’ve seen it before!” Suddenly he laughed and jumped to his feet, exhaustion forgotten in the incredible discovery.

“Lief, Lief. They are real. They were in our dreams. Look!”  He laughed and jumped and grabbed Lief and pulled him to his feet and danced around in circles with him, laughing with his head thrown back. Soon Lief was turning with Spin as his friend danced exuberantly around him, the relief of finding themselves safe was plastered in a large grin on his broad face.

The young man watched and smiled. Then, when the boys finally flung themselves on the ground exhausted, he said, “This,” and touched his tunic, “is Forest Green. My eyes are Blue. My hair is Blond.”

Spin looked from his eyes to the sky.

“The sky is blue, too?”

“Yes.”

“And the trees are Forest Green?” asked Lief.

The man laughed. “The forest is Green. A dark Green. My tunic is almost that Colour of Green so it’s called Forest Green, after the Forest.”

“Oh.”

“Who are you?” Spin suddenly asked. “And where are we?”

“I’m Jared, Guardian of the Gate. And you are at the entrance to the Vale of Colour of Dramor City. You will be taken to our compound when you are rested.”

Jared stood, and formally placed his open hand to his chest. “I greet you in the Name of the Creator, Great Artist, Maker, Sightgiver. You are welcome in our Vale. Find safety and freedom here. What is ours is yours. May this be your home. The Unmaker does not rule here.”

The boys stood and tried to copy his gesture.

“Thank you. I’m Spin.” Spin didn’t understand all Jared had said, but the last phrase filled him with relief … and amazement.

“And I’m Lief,” the larger boy broke in, “and I thought we’d never make it!”

Jared laughed. “I had doubts myself. But your gaining our gate was enabled by your seeking. All seekers find what they seek here. And all seekers come here eventually. The Creator calls all seekers home, to His realm.” He paused and regarded Spin with interest. “I would like to know, some time, how you knew to shout His Sign at that Enforcer. It has been a long while since an outsider shouted ‘Colour’ at our Gate.”

So the boys discovered that dreams sometimes speak more clearly of reality than does waking, and that the Unmaker’s grim rule was not complete; there were places where another King ruled – and there all seekers were welcome.

 

For more, read https://godcolouredwords.com/my-stories/colours-of-life/(opens in a new tab)