7734 - Tower’s fairytale

N. Lygeros
Translated from the Greek by Angeliki Papadopoulou

Once upon a time, Master took his disciples to the ruins of one old castle. At least this is what they thought. In reality, it was a tower. They went up and looked down, at the port, and far away at the sea.The Master only looked at the sky. They didn’t know what he had in his mind. But this did not cause them curiosity anymore. And the chinese ideograms made the same impression. Suddenly, they saw him staring at the water surface. They did not understand that he remembered a mental battle of a bygone era, where swords followed one code. Two points upon the sea and nothing after. Meteora, flying swords and fighters of wind. The disciples were tired and sat because they could not predict how many hours the unknown course will last. This of course did not mean that they did not exist. The Master sat too and started talking to them about unknown battles that anonymous knights had given. But he named them as pawns of a huge batch inside time. They wanted to enjoy the view but the tone of their Master hurted them. They did not manage to understand his invention. They were in one theatrical performance without knowing the script and improvisation was limited. The stars of night showed those things. They did not realize that the fairytales were so huge that night startled them. They could see neither chameleons nor dragons. For the Master it was important that the beasts were away. So, he let his disciple rest. They could not die tired. Little by little, they came down from the tower. Master stayed behind a little longer, he saluted his own people and said that he is sorry. It came to disciples’ mind that there is no buffalo so the Master could not come down and they took the downhill. The bakery was not open yet but the leaven was ready. The rocks of tower would still wait,if the little disciple would ask for another fairytale in order to understand the battle in which she did not live. They would wait to hear her words for the broken swords. Only then the Master would tell the next childrens’ fairytale.