Parting in Blue
From the moment he first appeared in the village with his white steed, he had not spoken a word. They had no idea who he was, where he was going or if he intended to stay.
And then there was the blue. The blue of his hat and clothing. The trappings of his horse. Even his eyes. Especially his eyes. They seemed to shine with a light and magic all their own. They radiated joy, and all who met him were light of heart in his presence.
Many wondered about the significance of his blue attire, but there seemed no sense in asking him about it, since he did not speak. However, they did speak of it amongst themselves. Once the children, who often gathered in a circle around him in the village square, seeming to feed off those radiant eyes, heard this talk, they did ask him about it. And, he did reply, in his own way. They were seated in a circle, with him in the center, in the town square. He rose and walked over to his horse, which was grazing under a large oak at the edge of the square. He took hold of the reins with one hand, gestured to himself with the other, then pointed down the road leading out of the village. When they questioned him further, he gestured to them, waving them towards him and pointed down the road once more.
As if under a spell, the children approached him. Lifting the young girls one at a time, he placed them on his horse, then he took the reins and proceeded to leave the square and walk on out of the village, the young boys following closely behind.
No sooner were they out of sight, when the people of the village felt a sense of unease. Knowing that the children were often gathered around their strange, yet most welcomed, visitor, they realized they were nowhere to be seen. Looking first in the square, and then in the few lanes that comprised the village, they found neither their children nor their visitor.
When hours drew into days, with all hope waning, they became quite somber. Sensing that their children were lost to them, forever, it was decreed that the display of the color blue would be forbidden for all times.
With a few more than the requested 200 words, this is my response to Jane Dougherty’s Microfiction Challenge #26: A journey, with the illustration provided. As usual, I leave a lot of unanswered questions. The word count here is 387. Jane’s critique is welcome.
Image source: Wikimedia Commons