PDA

View Full Version : Fool's Journey 2 More (1225 words)



Riptide
July 4th, 2014, 11:34 PM
http://www.writingforums.com/threads/148107-Fool-s-Journey



The Emperor


Straight back,
stern face.
He stares straight ahead.
Eye don't deviate,
they claim order, power, and
regulation. He's the authority ,
the father head.
Focused and confident,
don't stray from what he says.
He's the law
in all that it is.


Sniffing, Fool followed the path towards town. It was clear, a straight shot there. Bread drifted through the trail. Transcending joy he wished to share as the smell led the way. Soon, his mom would know of this joy. Soon, he'd have his task complete.

Up ahead, towards the town, a man guarded the gate. Weapons drawn, five wooden sticks to be exact, he watched Fool. Fool stepped forward, but was thrust back.

“Keep afar! You're not welcome here!” Yelled the man.

“Where will I go? I need to enter. I have a task at hand, one mother placed on my head. Please, you must let me pass, sir.”

“No,” he said. Slits of eyes under his helmet mask, covering his evil deeds.

Fool let out a cry. “Why?”


“Fool, I know of you. I will not let you pass.” Stiff and unrelenting. Stubborn in all his might. Fool watched on in tears as others were led on by.

“Please sir, mother will worry. I've been out far too long.”

Nothing. Nothing, but the people in the market, selling wares. Talking and chatting, as Fool stared on. More tears, for he needed to be there not here. He took a step back, splashing and falling into mud, he landed with a sob.

The man did nothing to help, just pointed with his eyes. Fool stood, wet and damp. He needed to get clean, for wind rustled around him. A cold chill rose up his spine, sped by his clothes. “Please sir, may I go inside?” He nestled his clothes closer as the wind picked up. Fear for a cold filled his eyes.

“No,” the man said. Again, he wasn't allowed. Horses, carts, men and women, all walked in, but Fool had to wait on the other side. He sniffled. Why can't he go through? Why must he be stopped?

“Sir...?”

“No.”
“No what, guard?” Boomed a voice. An older man. Wrinkled down with age, but strong hands by his side.

The guard faltered, taking a step behind. “This boy...”

“This boy right here?” The older man pointed at the Fool, who stood straighter at recognition, his wet clothes discard in his mind. “What about him?”

“I will not let him pass...”

“Ah, and why not?” Force and authority resounded in the area. Fool would feel fear, but he knew the old man meant none. “Boy, you may go. If they stop you
up ahead, call my name. I'll be there in no time, and call you mine. My responsibility in this land.” With that, he winked. “Your mom would have my head if it was any other way.” He nodded and left.

Fool right behind, he called. “But wait! What's your name?”

“Emperor”, he said, but Fool saw no sight of him any more.

Fool passed the guard and sighed, inside at last. Checking the vendors, he passed no bread maker. He went around, still spotting none. Smelling the air, he smelt the aroma. Bread was there, but where?

Round and round, Fool tried to find them. Find the smell. He asked around, but no one gave him mind. The time of day.

He was left wandering the town for bread bound to be there. Still, no where in sight.


The Hierophant



Pray before me,
follow your religion,
you conventions,
your cultural ways.
Receive your education ,
conform to the group
and treat them as you do me.
I am elderly,
white bearded
with crown atop my head.
Two pillars behind me,
as I lead you to knowledge,
and greet you on this earthly plane.



Anywhere? Was there no bread here? The crowd has dispersed and Fool still searched. Again, tears started in his eyes. The sun was dimming in the sky, and the smell of fresh bread was coming undone. No more today, as Fool paced the streets, still in search before dusk falls.

“Bread?” Fool whimpered, but no one was there to hear his words. He needed to find a spot to sleep, a spot to rest. Tomorrow, just one more day. He must find his bread. Must finish his deed. His task. Head low, eyes dragged on the floor, not seeing the distant light coming closer.

“Boy, it's curfew, can you not tell?”

Fool looked up. An older man held up his hand. A Taurus sign. What Fool mistaken for light, was nothing but the man's crown. It glowed all its own.

“I can't, sir. I have no where to rest my head. I'm a traveler here, with only enough to buy some bread.”

“Well, boy, come with me,” he said.

Fool followed. He had no where to go, so he trusted this man. He was scared as well. In a new town, no mom, no fellow that could protect him, he let fear in and wished it out.

The man entered a church. A big building Fool had never attended. He knew of it, though. It was holy, and protected. Fool knew that much, but what it
preached, he had no clue.

“Rest here.” The man pointed towards the pew. “Here we'll keep you safe, and since tomorrow marks Sunday, why not learn a few?”

Fool thought a while, tapping his chin, and bobbing his stick. Was this some convention city people do? He never had a church in view from his house out of town. He nodded yes either way, not wanting to look odd in this town his second day. “I'll sit and learn with the men, with the kids and the women. Tomorrow morning, you say?”

“Yes, young Fool, tomorrow morning. Maybe then we'll find someone who sells bread.”

Fool smiled, happy the man hadn't forgotten. “Are you the leader?” Fool asked the man.

He shook his head no. “No, no, I'm only a figure head where knowledge is shared, and conventions are kept.”

Fool kept on looking, not understanding just quite yet, but he was safe under this roof, so he said no more.

“Goodnight, Fool, sleep tight, and if it ever crosses your mind to find my name, they call me Hierophant here in this land,” he said, leaving Fool by himself in the pew.

He looked around his resting space, seeing rows and rows of benches. In the center sat a faceless figure, but bright and glowing from natural light, laced in gold all around. Fool traced his hand across, feeling happy and complete. This safe haven from the rest. The statue seemed to push away the fear of the night, just by being here and alive, but Fool knew rock couldn't talk. Couldn't breath or walk, so he knew the rock couldn't be alive. But still it seemed to pulse with life, as if not even rock could stop the spread of new growth and joy.

He turned back towards his new bed, spotting clean clothes not too far ahead. Walking over, he placed his hand a top them. Dry and all, and the perfect size for him. He smiled and put them on. Warm and nice, it was a great fit. Snug in his new clothes, he slept soundly through the night.