They say a rainbow is a promise.
To the village it’s a reminder of the fair stranger that came. That promised to free them from poverty. He threw colours in the sky and the first rainbow the villages ever saw was a sign of happiness. Of hope.
The stranger had appeared one dreary day. All morning, near the town square, he spoke of resisting the king's unjust laws, of defending women's rights, of living the privileged life every sufferer deserved to live.
"We are the elite, the hard workers, the Resistors. We must fight back. Join me, fight for freedom!” He then reached into his voluminous pocket and extracted a handful of multicoloured dust and threw it in the air. The dust had become a vast rainbow.
A promise.
When the youth was done, he needed accommodation. A farmer was inspired, and offered him a room. He had a very beautiful daughter named Hunter-Rose, who was nearing the end of adolescence. She was gentle and kind.
Hunter-Rose had a secret not even her dear father could know. Her mother was a siren. Hunter-Rose was appalled at what she could do. Not only had she inherited her mother’s beauty, but her ability to attract men like a magnet. She saw this as a curse and isolated herself from men whenever possible.
When the handsome youth walked into her pristine kitchen, her father informing her he was to dine with them, it was only natural she was tempted — by his good looks — to use her extraordinary talent.
Hunter-Rose was disgusted. She ate her dinner as fast as she could, then hurried upstairs to her room without saying so much as ‘goodnight’ to either of them.
Unbeknownst to her, the youth was staying with them. She realised, later, that locking her door would have been advisable.
It was near midnight when the youth crept silently into her room. He perched on her bed and sang. Nobody had ever heard a voice with such melody. He sang of battles, of heroes, of tragedy.
The voice snuck into Hunter-Rose’s dreams. Her subconscious showing her illusions of not the tales and stories the youth spoke of, but the youth himself. He lead an invincible army against the king — she was disguised as his right-hand man. She saw herself draw an arrow. A rose-red feather from the tail of a rare phoenix. The arrow sailed through the air and plunged deep into the heart of the cruel king. The youth hoisted her up on his white horse and they galloped off into the sunset.
The youth left a blood-red rose impaled on an arrow with a lapis feather in her grasp.
Hunter-Rose woke clutching the arrow to her heart. She dressed in a blue gown with her red hair in ringlets down her back. With her heart in her hand she knocked on the youth’s door and was told to enter.
The room was deserted.
A longbow hung in the corner, complete with a quiver full of the arrows she used in her dream.
A note was plastered to them.
‘Hunter-Rose. I leave the duty I have created, in your hands. You must be the one to conquer the king. Destiny calls.’
Many years passed.
The sting of the youth’s betrayal never faded over the years. Hunter-Rose could never find it in her heart to love another man. She never used the determination, the cowardly youth had stirred up, to overthrow the king.
Beyond the veil, what was he?
He lived the life of a criminal, wishing that he hadn’t been a coward, and that he lead the many villages he had convinced on an assault on the king’s fortress. If he had, he might have been king, and had the lovely Hunter-Rose as a wife.
As for the town, he left it more downcast and wasted than ever before. Whenever a rainbow appeared in the sky, everyone would glare up at it and shake their fists.
To others, the rainbow is a promise. To them, the rainbow is a veil. Beyond the veil, there is nothing but hate and regret.
So this is my competition entry. It's going to be published in an anthology and I'm really excited and proud of myself.
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