Golden

Golden

By Triece Bartlett

Artwork by Haley Bartlett

The Words

This story started as a first line exercise:  In the center of the ring, two golden hoops spun.  It changed with time.  The story started in the 1990s and took off on a website in the 2000s, but stopped with life changes.  I finally found the time and the rest of the story through the years.  For my friends who did not feel they belonged or should change to be accepted by the world- You are beautiful.

Chapter 1

Sire, the child will not move.  We have called all the physicians, wizards, and anyone of any note who may release the child from the spell, but none have been able to break the spell or dissuade the child from this pursuit.  Polaris said.

Have you brought in the strong men to move the child, Polaris?  King Lounge Goodinhale inquired.

Yes. The child cannot be moved.  There is magic here.

In the middle of a white chalk circle drawn on the floor; twin, golden, face-sized, circular hoops spun on their sides. Captivated by the flashing of the hoops, a child was sitting on the wood slat floor in front of the whirling rings of gold.

Sire, may I ask what interest you have in this child?  Is this child not a stranger to you?  One of the King’s people asked.

I was visiting King Boron in the palace up on the hill.  We came to the market one day to purchase treasures for my family as gifts for my return to Goodinhale.  The woman of this house came out into the dusty market, screaming and pulling her long brown curly hair.  Having children, myself, and, understanding her distress, I asked Polaris to look into what could be done, and witnessed the child, last week, exactly the same as I see the child today.  Nothing has changed.  The child has not eaten, but has not grown thin or weak.  The child has not wet itself nor fallen asleep.

Ten other people were in the room with the child: Polaris, the King of Goodinhale, the child’s parents, the child’s three brothers, and five other members of the King’s entourage

One of the servants of the house poked his head around the corner of a wall, bordering the room, and whispered in the silence:  I think I know someone who might help.

The Sire, Lounge Goodinhale, King of the shore Kingdom of Goodinhale, having the most delicate ears, and trained to observe the slightest of vibrations and sounds, not only had heard the servant, but the shyness in the voice, as the golden hoops sung.  Only he could hear the singing of the hoops.  He had heard the singing of the hoops for some time on the streets before Lady Sosna had come screaming out of her house.  Her apparent anguish, combined with the tonality of the hoops, led him into her house to comfort her and discover the origins of the enchanting airs.

Who could help, Good Servant?

The servant politely entered the room, bowing slowly as the light from the arched window shown behind the child, who remained sitting on the floor in front of the hoops.

I am Hatalie of the Chromos Tribe from across the Great Ocean. The Natura is the only one who can help.

Why do you think this Natura could help?

The hoops.  They came as a gift for the child’s tenth birthday from a far off land with no note as to who had sent the gift.  The rose in the corner, that was beginning to bloom when the child spun the hoops, has not yet bloomed.  The room, even at night, shows the sun shining through the window behind the child’s back in the same place as it is now.  You are right, Sire, nothing…NOTHING has changed in this room at all except for the movement of others in and out.

You are very wise, Hatalie.  Please call me, Lounge, and do not bow from now on.  You will no longer serve the House of Sosna, nor will your people. You have done more than all the physicians, wizards, and strongmen of the land have done in the past week.  None of them observed as much as you have.  You have observed more than me, who rules a land, and more than Polaris, who is the most wisest of men.  I would have you return with me to my home where I will make peace with my family, who expected me to leave yesterday to return home, and we will then procure a ship to sail to your land to find your Natura, who I believe is a person of some sort whom we can bring back with us to solve this puzzle.  If you are agreed, I will make plans with the Lady Sosna of this house, and establish an account to provide for your family while you are gone.  Are you agreed?

I am most honored, Sire…Lounge, Hatalie corrected his bow and speech at the same time.  His family had always served others.  Serving was their natural born gift as the words had been spoken to his father’s, father’s father, as a child.

The Grandfather had been exiled from his homeland.  The Grandfather had been sent adrift on a long fisherman’s sail ship as a young man because he had spoken against the new line of Naturas.  The new line of Naturas had stolen the name from the natural heirs and attempted to kill off the rightful Natura line.  Surreptitiously, the Grandfather had been given a locket and a woven blanket from the last known true Natura the night he was set adrift.

The Natura had told the Grandfather that his line would be returned to Chromos someday, and these gifts would be needed.  Because of the Grandfather’s bravery and punishment, the Natura would honor the family and the lands of Bliss and Chromos once again. 

Hatalie had heard about magic beyond the lands in which he currently lived, but thought they had just been fairytales the Grandfather had created to make excuses for their golden skin. The spinning golden rings had been a tale the Grandfather had told Hatalie as a young boy.  He hadn’t remembered until it was too late, and the child had her soul sucked from her body.  He felt guilty for not believing or remembering the old tales of the Grandfather, who he had dismissed as a foolish old man who had lost his mind.  He had not believed in his differences, or himself.  He had not believed there were lands across the sea called Chromos or Bliss. 

Hatalie had dreams of unknown lands and people who looked more like him than the people of the lands of Goshonons or Goodinhales or Borons.  Not anyone from any land he had encountered had the golden skin of the Chromos.  He had denied his own strangeness because he had always wanted so badly to fit in.  Why could he not have inherited his sister’s milky white skin that was like his mother’s and his grandmother’s?  All the women had the white milky skin of the Goodinhales, but the men had golden skin.  He had tried to wash off the gold as a young child. He had tried creams, ointments, and cosmetics, but nothing hid the golden skin.  The house of Sosna had the charcoal skin of the Borons, and he had admired the richness and depth of the blackness of their skin.  He had told his friends that he had been in an accident, or had caught a strange disease that had turned his skin gold, or that he had crossed a witch once, and she had cursed him this way, but none was the truth.  He had begun to believe his own excuses until the golden rings had appeared and captured Catalie.

He had struggled with speaking up because of his guilt and lack of belief in himself; then waited for a good time to offer what he could.

Hatalie would follow Lounge, and serve in any way he could.  He would have to try to remember the Grandfather’s stories and language.  Hatalie was no longer a young man.  He had a family and children of his own.  His father had passed across the Great River the year before.  His father had been the only child of the Grandfather.  Hatalie was the only boy born to his father.  He had one sister, who was much younger and did not remember the Grandfather. There was no one to help him remember, and no one else to go.

Hatalie had helped bring the precious Catalie safely into the world.  She had been full of a certain brilliance since her birth, and had been strangling on the chord when Hatalie had saved her.  Lady Sosna was so grateful, especially after three boys, she named the child after herself and Hatalie.  The child had brought much delight to the house and the neighborhood, and so much more to Hatalie’s

troubled heart.  Sometimes, he feared that he favored her more than his own children.  Hatalie had five golden boys, and two milky white girls.

Outside the house of Sosna, the streets were dusty orange.  The wind blew the soft clay powder around the tops of the chimneys.  Tightly packed, tall, white, stucco houses and older homes, which had been lightly colored by the dust and looked more brown or orange than white, lined the streets.  The street was large enough for carts and wagons two horses wide to travel down in one direction.  The street opened up to the hub of life for the city; the open air Marketplace. Multicolored canvases hung randomly from the tops of homes and other tall buildings above the crowds of shoppers to protect them from the sun and rain.  The amber light of the beginning of autumn glinted through the canvas openings in the Marketplace, but the light that came through the window in the front room of the house of Sosna remained the same as a bright white, burning summer’s day. 

The long journey to the land of the Goodinhales was just beginning.  The Sosna’s had trouble replacing their Good Servants, Hatalie Chrosmosal and his family.  Hatalie had some difficulty departing from his wife and children on the warm fresh fall day.  His youngest boy, Chrisopal, would not let go of his leg.  His oldest boy, Dant stood proud, and said, I will be the man of the house, father.  I will watch and protect over our family.  Come now, Chriso, father has a mighty serving duty to perform.  His wife had hugged and cried and said, What are we to do now?  We no longer have the purpose of serving.  What are we to do?

We have been over this. Lounge has bought this Chromosal Inn House for you to take in patrons for overnight stays, to feed, and care for strangers.  We are still fulfilling our purpose, just in a different action.  Lounge has left one of his wisemen and one of his strongmen to assist you, to protect you, and for you to serve.  You have your beautiful embroidery to sell at the Marketplace; the children have school, and will help you with the serving.  You will be so busy you won’t even remember my name.  You will come home one day from the Marketplace, and I will be waiting for you.  Dant will say, Some man named Hatalie is here to see you, and you will say, Hatalie?  Hatalie who?  You see, I am the one that will be lost without you.  What will I do?  Hatalie had said the last part mimicking the voices of his Dant and his wife and gesturing comically in an attempt to lighten his wife’s heart. 

She smiled and turned her back to him.  His children did the same, standing in the street in front of their new home and business.  This was a tradition of the Chromosals that Hatalie had remembered.  Loved ones never watched each other leave.  There had been no goodbyes.  When Hatalie returned, he would have to touch each one on their backs and say, You see, I have never really left you.  I have been just right over your shoulder this whole time.

Hatalie wore white puffy cotton pants.  His long dusty orange canvas shirt was lined with white silk and went to his knees, with slits up the sides to his hips.  His brown leather boots came up halfway to his knees.  His hair was short and an odd shade of dark brown.  On one arm, he carried a white canvas pull string bag with some belongings.  He held the locket and the blanket on his other arm. 

Hatalie climbed on the coach that carried King

Lounge and Polaris; then left the streets of the only home he had ever known.

Hatalie would travel with Lounge to the King’s homeland of Goodinhale, which was by the Great Ocean and on the other side of Goshonon.  Goshonon lay between Boron and Goodinhale. 

Goodinhale was the only City that had ships of any kind.  The ships did not travel far, but may travel to Cypia or Takus, and Lounge told Hatalie a story of the furthest island yet discovered by his sailing ships: Grasshopia. Grasshopia was an island eight days journey by sea from Takus, heading towards the sun. But I’m sure you will see the land for yourself on our journey, Lounge said as he sliced some apple and handed Hatalie a piece on his silver curved knife. 

Do you think your ships are large enough for longer journeys?  I am not sure how far the land of Chromos is from Goodinhale…and if you have not yet discovered it, Chromos must be far.

I sent a man ahead to Goodinhale, and a large ship, the largest ever built, is now under construction.  I have my best builders and seamen on the project.  I will be staying at home for a while.  My wife would not let me go otherwise, and we will need to get provisions and find some direction through the stories you are remembering for Polaris.

Did you not say that your Grandfather told you a story of landing in Goodinhale, marrying a kindly woman there; then traveling to Goshonon?  He lived there for a year serving a family until your father was born.  The Goshonon family wanted nothing to do with children, so they moved to where your Grandfather had acquired a position with the Sosna family, and your family has followed their line ever since.

Correct. 

If your Grandfather landed in Goodinhale, then that is the most likely place to start from.  Did he say whether he traveled toward the sun or away?

I believe it was away from the sun and the night triangle of Satus…as he called it.  He traveled towards a star cluster in the sky that looked like a leaf…no a tree…that was it…a tree.  These things are hard to remember.  Sometimes he spoke in other words- another language.  He said that, on Chromos, the language was moot.  Everyone just understood no matter the formation of the sounds.  I wish I could remember more.

The journey is just beginning.  We are not even to the outskirts of Boron.  Do not push yourself.  Remember when you can.

The day was full of constant bumping on the road, discussions of ship building, trees in the sky, stops for relief, and food. 

On the first stop, Hatalie felt like the world was trying to throw him off its back.  He could barely stand on the land that he knew so well.  He had never ridden in a coach before.  His hand reached out for the nearest tree to steady himself.  He needed to relieve himself terribly, but he had to wait until he could stand strong.  He finally found his legs again, and urinated against the tree he had been leaning on.  The trees were different and the land curved up and down into hills of green grass.  The leaves of the trees turned golden in the light, and creatures hopped about underneath the trees.

When he rejoined the others, they were setting a blanket on the ground to sit on.  Polaris was picking some sticky flowers at the base of a tree.

Join us for a glass of wine and some bread, Hatalie, Lounge pronounced.  Lounge was known for his compassion and intuition.  Lounge’s Grandfather was a war monger.  Lounge had learned peace from his father, who still lived, and who had abolished war.  Lounge’s father had retired to Cypia, and had left the Kingdom of Goodinhale to Lounge. 

Hatalie joined Lounge on the stark white blanket and grabbed a glass of buttery wine.  Why is it so hard to walk on this land? 

Oh, you are not accustomed to riding in a coach.  It will be the same on the ship, but more so.  Your uneasiness and wobbly legs are due to the rocking of the coach.  The Great Sea rocks the boats much more.  Many men cannot travel on the sea.  It makes them sick.  You will need to become accustomed to such travel for our journey.

This is most unusual, Polaris interrupted King Lounge.  Polaris was a great man.  He was famous all over the known world for his writings and teachings.  He had discovered healing herbs and advances in counting.  He had written books about man’s role in the universe and had discovered how to grow things where nothing would grow, but he was most famous for his rhyming tales and for being the most excellent player of the lute.  He was a man of many talents and of great wisdom.  He had also been Lounge’s best friend since the days before they wore long pants. This plant, with the bright yellow flowers, blooms all year and is sticky to the touch.  I have begun to study this plant.  I have tested it for poison, and it is edible and tastes very sweet.  Would you both mind digesting some for the journey so I may see what other attributes it may effect?  I assure you, it will have no ill effects.  It may actually be beneficial.  I will partake of some myself, as well.

I must warn you against my friend, Polaris, Lounge said as servants poured more wine into their glasses, washed their feet, and rubbed their backs.  He always finds something interesting to busy himself with.  The universe is such a vast place.  He wants to discover as much of it as possible before his time passes.  You will rarely see Polaris sitting still.  I believe that he cannot.  He also will use his friends most highly in all his thoughts and experimentations.  Lounge laughed loudly as he played with his friend.

Hatalie felt uncomfortable sitting and being served.  He felt he should be doing something.  The great honor was his to serve such a great King, but he had yet done nothing.  He felt useless.

Baah. Polaris replied to his good friend and King, as he had often done.  My friend would let you think I am the only one with any faults.

You see, Hatalie.  Polaris already counts you as a friend.  He makes friends very easily.  I should take that as an affront, should I not?  Look at how he speaks to his King…I should hang you!  Should I not?  Lounge laughed loudly again.

If he would only hang me.  Every other day he swears he will hang me for some imagined offense.  He only knows how I love him.  I could have married many times, except for my dedication….

…to my Lord and Master.  Lounge finished Polaris’ sentence for him.

You two…you are like an old married couple.  Hatalie spoke and blushed for speaking his mind.  Pardon my words.  That was rude of me.  I do not know what came over me.  Do forgive me.

The other two fell silent and looked ominously at Hatalie.  Hatalie felt the weight of their stares.  He was so ashamed of his act.  His heart raced, and he could not speak.  He hid his face.

He heard laughter.  You would not be the first to state such a fact.  Polaris said as he laughed in a hearty bass laughter.  He could barely speak.

You are truly our friend now.  You have jested with us, and we have played with you back.  This will be very important on our long journey. We shall be friends.

But I am a servant.  I am beneath both of you.  I cannot be a friend.  A true friend that jests must be family or an equal.  I am not your equal.

"Every man is equal to each other.  There is no difference.  Each man has his own gift to offer to the balance of life.  You will have to learn you are our equal, but there is a chain of command, especially on a quest.  But that chain is still to be determined.  I am King, but that does not mean I know best in every situation.  I only decide who does know best, that is one of my greatest gifts.  That is how I knew you were meant to help us solve this problem.  You may be the one to lead this adventure.  You must