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(For Dante's tournament)
"Taking a blank page and painting it with words is more than art, its magic!"
Centuries before the birth of Christ. There was a fad of storytelling in the deserts of Persia. Confined far from any oasis, in the deepest, darkest prison is the man who started it all, Farzin.
Farzin had just got home after a hard day's work at the farm. As he walked through the door his lovely young daughter greeted him and made the long days under the sun worth it. "Papa, can you please continue your story?" Shadi excitedly asked. Her young face was aglow and her big beautiful brown eyes just like her mother’s shone as she smiled and waited for his reply.
"Let your father wash up and have his dinner first Shadi, and then the story time." Nousha being the loving and dutiful wife that she was placed a bowl of water on the floor as she knelt down with the towel to help wash her husband's feet.
Nousha relishes in the duty of serving her husband and has always been so proud of Farzin's limitless imagination. "Just a thought, why not sell your stories my husband. You have natural talent for storytelling." Nousha suggested patting his feet dry. "What about the farm?" Farzin asked. “I can help with the farm, and Shadi is old enough now to have some responsibilities of the house.”
At just the thought of her father actually writing and selling the stories that she loved so much the ten years old Shadi proudly boasted, "Yes papa I can bake bread now, help momma with the dishes and even do laundry.”
So our tale continues as, it didn’t take long before the popularity and demand of Farzin's tales traveled from tribe to tribe. He had become quite the celebrity where people knew his face upon seeing it and his voice upon hearing it. Everyone loves a good story.
One day around mid-afternoon, Farzin's errand boy, Navid, came running to give Farzin the good news. "Sir the Sultan has requested a performance from you for the Prince's upcoming fifteenth birthday." The boy said panting. "Thank you Navid," Farzin said as he went back inside.
Seeing the worried and stressful look on her husband’s face Nousha asked, "Why are you sad my husband, isn't it an honor to be invited into the palace?" "Yes it is an honor, my only concern is the Sultan's son, Jahangir.” Farzin said as he continued, “His is most difficult and can be a spoiled brat mostly because he is the only child.” “Not to mention he is cruel and to be honest the prince would rather see beheadings than hear stories,” as he said these things Farzin with his wild imagination could see his own head rolling towards the Prince's feet.
Knowing that none could turn down the Sultan, Nousha already packed Farzin's bag with bread, money and scrolls of his best works. She gently encouraged Farzin by saying, "Get ready now my husband, the palace is a good two days travel." She filled his water pouch ready to go.
"We have enough silvers to last us a lifetime, more money than the Sheikh (tribal leader). Let's run away and start over." Farzin suggested still dreading the young prince of Persia. Shadi having never seen her father so worried asked, "What's wrong papa?" As she trotted up to him wrapping her arms around him for a hug he replied, "Nothing's wrong Shadi.” "I have faith in you my husband, don’t diminish your talent," Nousha lovingly said as she too wrapped her arms around him.
"Alright I'll go, but Nousha promise me should things be too difficult for you to bear alone you'll send Shadi to her uncle that way she is safe.” Farzin requested. "Yes my husband to ease your mind I will comply with your request however, I am sure that we will be fine" Nousha said, as she kissed him goodbye.
To be continued..