This is a new type of story for me so please don't be harsh. Its a new concept and a first draft but please enjoy! Let me know what you think.
The tale I am about to share is a legend. The beliefs of the people in the story are of the old world and may have died out. Our tale starts with a boy named Cartoolu who was shunned by his people because he was different. Whenever the boy cried tears of black fell from his eyes. The people believed it was an omen that the boy was cursed. The boy, in fear, fled from his people and grew up to be a young man. Cartoolu did not cry and suppressed all his tears afraid that others would notice how different he was. One day while working he cut himself with a blade and black tears stained his face. He searched around for any witnesses to his black tears. There was but she was an old blind woman. She walked over to him and touched his face. She felt the strain and pain on his face. She gave him advice to seek the gods to find an answer to his problems. Cartoolu decided to go on a journey to find answers so he traveled across Monzu the heated Earth that created fire. The gods dwelled on a small island named Pitarala.
Cartoolu visited the temple of First Daughter. Vines covered her temple but a warm breeze stirred around her figure. The wind carried a voice to his ears. The voice spoke, “Welcome little brother what do you seek?” Cartoolu told his story to First Daughter’s Voice and it was awhile before she answered. “Little brother before you took a first breath there was First Son. My brother was strong and brave and made Honored Mother and Honored Father proud, but he never shared a tear. He kept everything to himself and in doing so he gave up his life. To not shed a tear means to give up your own humanity. Little brother our parents have great wisdom. Go speak with Honored Mother and Honored Father.” Cartoolu left a flower to thank First Daughter for she did provide comfort to him.
The temple of Honored Mother and Honored Father is weathered and old but still littered with flowers. Cartoolu knelt down before the temple and called out to Honored Mother and Honored Father. A warm and gentle breeze wrapped around his body along with voices. “Welcome gifted son. We know what you seek. But hear our tale before you ask any questions” spoke the voices in unison. Honored Father said first, “Gifted son tears are a gift that every being should cherish. I shed tears in awe of Honored Mother because she blessed me with children. Don’t be troubled my son everything will be clear to you soon.” Honored Mother’s sweet voice spoke next, “Gifted son I shed tears because for women it cleanses our soul and lighten our hearts. Tears help us relate to others. We call you gifted son because that is what you are. Our world is dying and a new world is beginning do not waste your life suffering my son.”
After hearing the god’s tales he could not ask his questions. Tears of black flooded his eyes and poured down his cheeks falling onto the temple. This time he did not hold back his tears and let them flowed down freely. Although he did not find the purpose for his black tears; he was grateful for his life and left the temple of Honored Mother and Honored Father.
It was two weeks until Cartoolu decided to return home to his people. The people had changed and their beliefs were changing as well. They were slowly dying. They were unable to relate to each other anymore and were unhappy. The first person to come across Cartoolu was a young girl named Zilabell. She, like every child, was curious about him. The story of Zilabell is another legend but she played a part in Cartoolu’s life. The little Zilabell presented Cartoolu with a flower and spoke, “Honored Mother came to me in a dream and told me a lost man would come, and that I should give him a flower and another gift.” Cartoolu was touched by the flower alone and knelt down to collect the flower and to thank Zilabell. She surprised him by leaning forward and kissing his cheek.
A tear drop fell down his cheek and onto Zilabell’s hand. She used that single drop and created an image upon his hand. Whether her actions were of her own of the god’s no one remembers. But the result remains the same of what was created out of Cartoolu’s tears. Cartoolu discovered that by using his tears he was able to create something new. ..something without a name. This new gift was shared with the people. With it they were able to relate to each other again. The black tears were used to create writing and pictures. Cartoolu had found his reason for his black tears named …Ink. Although his life was hard and maybe sad but by seeking meaning to his life he brought joy that was shared with others.
The old world died and the new world brought about many new wonders. The legend of Cartoolu may be forgotten but his gift of Ink remains.
Selina "Nightly Seluna" Serene
- 16 years, 4 months, 22 days ago
