The Hue Runner

“Upon each of your crowns will be placed this marking, a symbol of hope,” called the Hue Master dressed in his dusted whites, “a reminder of the rules we are all bound to-“

“More like enslaved to,” muttered Rannock in my ear. His disgust carefully hidden beneath a penitent brow.

“Quiet,” I murmured, “they’ll hear.”

We shifted there, upon the cracked cement, a group of hopefuls. Having passed the test of colours we were ready. Ready for the greatest sacrifice.

“To be a Hue Runner is to lay down your life,” the Hue Master continued to wheeze, spreading out hands over the gathered crowd.

With a flourish of robes and cracked hands he bid us turn round.

“Behold! Citizens of Raven’s Point! The rising force, the dawning light! Here, behold, the future Hue Runners!”

-M.E. InkOwl

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