While the Script is Drawn

Mosaic 24 - Hitsu Aslan, Giant Orc and Old Witch

Once upon a time, when witches, giants and fairies were still rampant, there lived a farmer named Hitsu Aslan. He lives with his family in a small village called Ghuttah village. Every day he worked hard to support his family, from sunrise to sunset, plowing fields, hoeing, tending to the rosella trees behind the house. His hands are always calluses so often hold a sickle, often even bleeding.

However, he was not the only one who worked so hard. The lives of all the villagers are hard. Ghutta village is not as lucky as other villages that have fruit trees, flowers, soil suitable for planting, cool air and abundant water. The village is located on a dusty plain surrounded by rocky hills. The wind was hot and blowing dust into the eyes. Looking for water is an uphill battle for the villagers. There is only a spring in the lake where the water is murky every year and to take it has to travel a distance of two hours.

However, Hitsu has been lucky to have a family that she cares about more than anything. He loved his wife and five children. Moreover, his children have noble character and honorable behavior.

Despite loving all his children, Hitsu secretly loves the youngest, Isa, who is only three years old. Isa the energetic little blue-eyed boy. He captivated everyone with his mischievous laughter. While the other children were still learning to crawl, Isa was able to walk, while the other children were still learning to walk, he was already running around.

When Hitsu comes home after a long day of work, Isa will run from the house and dunk his face into his father's stomach. Instantly, the tiredness in Hitsu's body faded away.

Unfortunately, Hitsu's happy days must come to an end.

It happened when one day an Orc came to the village of Ghuttah. Each step caused a shock on the ground. Villagers immediately dropped spades, hoes, axes, cauldrons in which pumpkin soup would ripen and run down the ridge. They locked themselves and hugged each other in their homes.

Everyone in the village knew the reason for the Orc's arrival. They had heard stories of his visits to other villages and wondered why Ghuttah had escaped his attention. 

Perhaps, the distress and poverty in Ghuttah village helped, as their children were underfed and thin-fleshed. Whatever it was, their luck finally went away

Ghuttah village trembled and held its breath. Each family prayed that their home would be missed by the Orc. Because if there is a knock on the roof of the house, it means they have to give up a child. The orc would throw the child into the sack, then back into place. And if they refuse to give a child, the Orc will bring all the children in the house, or worse take all the children in the village by force.

Where did the Orcs take the children? To his residence of course, a castle on top of a steep mountain far from the village of Ghuttah. A number of valleys, some deserts, and taper rocky hills must be traveled to reach it.

And fateful, the door of the roof of Hitsu was in the corner, at once the wife was crying bitterly until she fell unconscious. His children screamed in horror, knowing that they would lose one of their family members. The family was given until dawn to prepare for his offering.

No parent can afford to make this kind of choice. That night, under the dim lights of the petromak, Hitsu and his wife debated what decision they would take. They talked, cried, talked again, cried again, all night until dawn there was no decision. Finally Arpha took five marbles and wrote each of the names of her children, and put them into a burlap sack.

"Take it," Hitsu said.

"I can't do it" Hitsu's wife choked.

And when the sun starts to crack, Hitsu makes a decision. Whose name on the marbles Hitsu took? Hitsu's heart screamed, crumbling dimly, crumbling with the dusty morning breeze of Ghuttah village. With guilt that could not be described Hitsu carried Isa outside the house. Isa had not realized what his father was doing. It was only after his father placed it outside the house and closed the door that the little boy realized what was happening.

Little Isa hit the door so his father would let him in crying. Hitsu was only able to mutter, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry," as the Orc's steps echoed the ground.

***

A few years have passed. The long drought continued, the village of Ghuttah was getting worse and poorer. Some babies die of thirst in a sling. The wells were shallow, the lake began to dry up, but Hitsu's anger grew more and more overflowing. He is no longer useful to his family. He no longer works, rarely eats and just daydreams. His wife and son always pleaded but it was free. The four remaining sons took over his work, as Hitsu Aslan sat by the field alone, daydreaming and muttering indistinctly.

Then one day Hitsu Aslan decided to do something. He woke up at dawn without waking his wife and children. He packed a few pieces of bread into a burlap sack, put on his butut leather shoes, tied his scythe around his waist and set off.

He walked for days. He walked until the sun left a faint red glow on the horizon. At night, he slept in the cave while the wind blew fiercely outside. He ate his bread, then whatever he found, and there were times when he did not eat at all.

Finally, he came to the mountain where the castle of the Orc was. He was so eager to end his quest, that he immediately climbed without rest first. Sharp rocks tore at his feet. A strong wind nearly knocked him down from the back of the mountain until he finally arrived in front of the giant castle gate of the Orc.

"Who dares to challenge me?" the Orc's voice blurted out as Hitsu threw a stone at the castle gate.

"I came from the village of Ghuttah and will kill you" Hitsu Aslan said.

Silence followed. Then the gate slowly opened and the Orc loomed before Hitsu Aslan.

"Certainly that?" his voice was blaring like a rumble.

"Sure" replied Hitsu Aslan. "Anyway, one of us will die today."

For a moment, the Orc seemed as if it was about to sweep Hitsu Aslan off the ground and devour him. Something made the creature doubtful.

"Where are you from?"

"Ghuttah Village" Hitsu Aslan said. " I didn't come here to make small talk."

"Yes, yes, you're here to kill me, right?" the Orc grinned. "But what's my fault that you want to kill me?"

"You took my youngest son," replied Hitsu Aslan growled. "He's the one I love the most in this world."

"Oh.." muttered the Orc. "I forgot. But I have to admit that your courage amazes me."

"I don't need your compliments."

The Orc growled again and stared fixedly at Hitsu Aslan, "Alright... Then... I'm willing to duel with you, but first I ask you to follow me."

"Hurry on.... My patience is already..."

Not yet Hitsu said, the Orc suddenly exploded, throwing white smoke that clumped up to Hitsu Aslan coughed. After slowly fading the white smoke, what Hitsu Aslan saw was not a huge monster named Orc, but a white-robed old man, his hand holding a golden stick, his silver beard dangled to his stomach.

"I'm not actually an Orc. I'm a witch named Zabadruz. Now you follow me."

The magician walked towards a gigantic passageway, and Hitsu Aslan had no other choice but to follow him. He followed the witch through a labyrinth whose ceiling was close to clawing at the clouds and in the staircase of large pillars. They continued walking until the witch allowed Hitsu Aslan to enter a large room with a giant curtain.

"Open the curtain."

But what makes Hitsu Aslan fall to his knees is the children who run around and play happily in the park. Hitsu Aslan circulated his gaze and found what he was in. Isa! His son, still alive and fresh fit. He was getting taller and fuller, he was wearing a white shirt and black pants, neat.

"Was. My son," Hitsu Aslan nailed his son several times.

"He can neither hear you nor see you" said the witch Zabadruz.

Hitsu Aslan jumped up and down, waving, screaming until the witch closed the curtain again.

"I don't understand" Hitsu Aslan said "I thought..."

"This is your reward" said the witch.

"Please explain!" sue Hitsu Aslan.

"I gave you a test."

"Deedies?"

"Praise of affection. If you hadn't chosen then all your children would have died by then, they'd know they had a cowardly father."

"Your son doesn't remember you anymore now" continued the witch. Hitsu Aslan limply raised his scythe but it slipped out of his hand. His knees were shaking, he sat down.

"I respect you for your bravery, the burden you bear on your shoulders" said the witch. "This is your son's life now. Here he was happy, getting the best food and clothes. He received the best education. Later he will be a useful person to many."

"I want to see him" Hitsu Aslan said. "I want to take her home."

"Related?"

Hitsu looked at the witch.

"I'll let you take him home" said the witch and pulled out an hourglass and turned him over. "If that's what you choose. Think again. I'll give you time until this hourglass is over. But if you take it you can't come here anymore."

I will take her home, Hitsu thought. This was the thing he wanted the most, along with his every breath. But Hitsutersadar, if he brought him home, what kind of life awaits Isa in the village of Ghuttah? The best is the hard life of the peasantry, as in his path, nothing more. That is if Isa did not die from drought like so many children in the village. 

If so can you forgive yourself, Hitsu Aslan sobbed, at the height of her grief she found the answer.

The witch returned and found Hitsu Aslan sobbing with a trembling body.

"You cruel monsters."

"If you had lived as long as I did, you would have understood that cruelty and glory are only separated by a thin thread. Have you made a choice?"

Hitsu Aslan wiped his tears, picked up his scythe and slipped it to the waist. Slowly, he walked to the door, his head lowered.

"You are a good father" said the witch, "Take this one"

The witch gave a small bottle of white liquid. "Drink this on your way home."

Hitsu Aslan accepted it without a word.

***

That spring, the dark sky over the village of Ghuttah finally burst, black clouds splashing down with heavy rain. The whole village quenched its thirst. The wildflowers began to bloom as if a miracle had occurred. The hills are starting to green. Dry rivers began to appear as sources of water. Small fish popping out of nowhere.

Sometimes twice a week it rains. Hitsu Aslan and the villagers of Ghuttah were unceasingly grateful.

When Hitsu Aslan arrived home after his journey to Orc Castle, Hitsu Aslan seemed to be a new, happier person. When asked his wife.

“Where have you been my husband?”

“What do you see?”

“What happened to you?”

Hitsu Aslan could not answer it. On the way he drinks water from the witch's bottle, Hitsu Aslan forgets his journey. All he remembered was going home and his little family in Ghuttah village.

The harvest of Rosella in Hitsu Aslan's garden is now abundant. The quality is also the best. The beans in his garden were also abundant. Hitsu Aslan became a rich man now, until his age grew older.

Despite that, every once in a while Hitsu Aslan in his sleep dreams of a handsome little boy playing around with him in such a beautiful garden. And when he woke up from his sleep Hitsu Aslan just smiled happily without knowing what he had dreamed earlier.

.

.

.

Finished