The Beggar’s Coloured Child (Abstract)

The entire village continued to laugh and mock him. They were no longer whispering behind his back.

Even the village children began to taunt and tease him.  He had been bestowed the title of the deranged untouchable leper.

Some kept their distance from him for fear of unspoken words that may escape from his dry cracked lips.

The monarch's corrupted soldiers kept a close eye on his every move. 

It did not matter that he had always been a loyal subject.

It did not matter that he had saved the tyrant head and the mighty monarchy countless times from crumbling.

The monarch, his stepbrother and his stepbrother's new young queen feared that the beggar's coloured child would reveal the true hidden agenda.

A blueprint that had been kept hidden under lock and key that even the most faithful subjects were unaware of its existence.

"Heed my advice I beg thee. These are not the words of an erratic man," pleaded the beggar's coloured child.

But no matter what he said or did, his words fell on deaf ears.

"These so-called premonitions of yours, what does that feel like," the monarch sheepishly asked.

"O great Czar, like a cold chill that travels through my spine.  It feels like rain on skin." whispered the beggar's coloured child.

"The pimples of a demented goose," the monarch and his soldiers laughed mocking his every word.

The Czar's maid who once vowed to watch the back of the coloured beggar's child betrayed him in the end, in return for riches promised by the tyrant leader.

But little did the beggar's coloured child realise that soon, his time too will come to an end.

For every premonition that was uttered by his lips, he was closer to dying.

For every prediction that came true, his life was cut much shorter.

The Chinese whispers about the deranged freak who claimed to have the gift of premonition spread throughout the kingdom.

But yet no one took notice of the monarch's loyal servants and subjects desperately working night and day to conceal the growing cracks on the monarchy's architectural walls. 

Soon the sandstorm will begin.

The monarch and his corrupted ministers will point their fingers towards the coloured beggar's child. 

He will be accused of folly and treachery and sentenced for the misfortune curse placed on the monarchy. 

The beggar's coloured child will be hauled to court before the monarchy's jury for the last time before being banished from the kingdom forever.

The entire village will gather to witness the beggar's coloured child being dragged away by the soldiers and thrown out of the kingdom's gates.

"Banish the untouchable leper, banish the cursed pariah," will echo the air in unison. 

But not once will the beggar's coloured child plead for leniency nor cry for mercy.

But yet no one was prepared for the worst that was yet to come.

As the last footprint of the coloured beggar's child leaves its final mark on the monarchy's ground, the great and mighty walls will finally crumble revealing the hidden truth.