Colour From Another Age

Today’s post Local Colour asks what object you would allow to keep its colour if the rest of the world became black and white. This is the story of a girl whose never seen colour coming into contact with it for the first time.

She raced over the grey hillside rushing towards the blackness that was trees in front of her. For as long as she could remember the world around her had been devoid of colour. There were stories of long ago when everything had been full of colour. Myths of things called green, blue and yellow. She’d heard how rainbows used to be things of beauty rather than grey arcs across grey skies. It was all gone now though and nobody could describe the colours past the unhelpful. “What did green look like? It looked like green, child.”

She passed into the blackness that was the wood and kept going. It world around her was darkness as she headed deeper into the trees. Behind her she heard the beat of hooves stop and shouts for the girls to be found. Breathing heavily she forged onwards trying to escape capture.

Suddenly she was grasped from behind and pulled backwards. She struggled but found herself being lifted off of the ground. She’d been caught. The man who caught her pressed her against the tree studying her. She quivered in fear at the sight of such a strange man but he only smiled softly at her. Pressing a finger to his lips he led her away into the trees pulling his cloak tighter so it hid her from view.

Finally she realised he wasn’t really going to help her when he led her out of the trees and towards the horses. She started to struggle and he looked at her regretfully for a moment before he boosted her up onto one of the horses. “You have to come with us,” he told her. She looked into his eyes hoping to see something there and the grey seemed to be tinged with regret though she wasn’t sure how that could be.

“What are you?” She asked in fear. He looked at her in confusion for a moment before he reached out and clasped his cloak. “This?” he said quietly looking at her. She nodded her head frantically wondering what was going to happen.

To her surprise he suddenly threw he head back and started laughing. “This, little one, is called red,” he told her offering out the end of his cloak. She looked at him for a long moment before she took it from his hands. “It’s a cloak, just like yours,” he said giving a soft tug on her black cloak.

“This is red. This is a colour,” she asked him in awe. He nodded smiling at her as she gazed in wonder at his cloak.

He ruffled her hair fondly before he swung up into the saddle behind her and settled in to wait for the rest of his comrades to return. They did so in small groups nodding at him when they saw the girl seated upon his horse. Finally the leader of the horsemen appeared and he walked towards the girl. She shrunk back into the man behind her as she realised she was the subject of intense scrutiny. “The colour, again,” he asked the man.

“Scared her half to death. She didn’t think we were human,” the man replied, his gaze landing fondly on the girl in front of her.

The leader approached closer, “Do you have a family child?” he asked softly. She didn’t reply instead looking at the man behind her. When he nodded encouragingly she looked back at the leader, “No.” He grimaced, “Would you like to come with us?” he asked. She looked torn for a moment before she grasped he red cloak, “Can I see more of this?” she asked. He smiled and nodded at her. “I’ll come,” she declared.

I’ve always been fascinated by tales of Camelot and it’s knights. So I decided in a world with no colour a red cloak should remain red in a silent tribute to Camelot.


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