The Colorless Land

Chapter 2: A Refugee Rescued

The boy did not look happy to be standing here in the middle of the villagers. He pulled up his shoulders and made himself small, trying to hide behind the fishers, away from the prying eyes and chattering, gossiping voices. He seemed overwhelmed, Jolette thought. As if he wasn't used to all the people, noise and attention.

Pale he looked, almost ghostly. His hair and skin were snowy white, and white, too, were his clothes, stained though they were with dust and mud. His eyes seemed bright, palest silver in the rapidly settling dusk; his frame was small and skinny, as if he had been eating too little for years and years on end. His hooded eyes and pronounced cheekbones made him look like a member of the ancient people of the North, a people that seemed to have disappeared off the face of the world long ago.

On all sides of the marketplace voices chattered, some among each other, some directed at the boy. Jolette caught countless questioning tones and over and over the word Colorless. The old were saying he had to be a member of the Colorless People from beyond the mountains up north. Jolette didn't know. She had never seen any before.

"Ahem," shouted Benthevin the mayor over the chattering crowd, coming to stand self-importantly in front of the boy. "Will everyone be quiet, please!"

His voice carried loudly over the noise, reverberating off the houses around the marketplace. The crowd went quiet. Leaning down as if talking to a toddler, the mayor addressed the boy.

"Now, little one," he said in the Common Language, "you're clearly not from here. Who are you, and where are your parents? Should you be wandering the wild alone?"

The boy stared at him, wide-eyed, then he lowered his head and avoided his eyes. Not a single word came from his mouth.

"Boy," said the mayor, more impatiently this time, "will you not answer me? I am the mayor of this town, and I can do a great many good things for you if you're nice."

The boy did not respond. He only shrank further back, his eyes flitting anxiously back and forth in search of an escape.

Voices began to murmur again, and the mayor gave an indignant huff. "Everyone, be quiet!" he shouted over his shoulder. "Child! Do you need anything? Food? Shelter? A way to get back home to your mom and dad–"

"Cut it out!"

Everyone spun around. Jolette's voice rang from the tree-branch where she stood, loudly resounding all over the square. "Leave him alone already!" she shouted. "You're making him panic! Can't you see he's overwhelmed?"

The villagers below her shuffled uncomfortably. The mayor turned red, either with annoyance or indignation or possibly both. Jolette gave a huff and planted a hand on her hip. Her words had escaped her before she could think, but she regretted nothing. She couldn't stand to sit here and watch all this nonsense a single second longer.

"First of all," she said as she swung down from the tree, "get him away from all those people! Anybody would freak out with a whole village staring at them!"

The mayor glared at her for a long moment, then it seemed to dawn on him that she did have a point, and he shouted into the crowd, "Can anyone take him to the orphanage?"

The fishers who had brought him exchanged a glance and nodded, then they gently led him away into one of the streets. The mayor gestured irritably at the crowd. "What are you standing around for?" he yelled. "Get away already! You'll hear all the news soon enough."

Jolette rolled her eyes, then she followed after the fishers and the boy. Maybe, she mused, it would help him to have someone her age to talk to, instead of all the forceful adults pressuring him with questions. Besides, if she managed to get through to him first, perhaps they would let her take care of him more, and she would get to know many more things about this mysterious stranger.