Insert Amazingly Witty Title Here

Grey in grey in grey in grey. That people knew to distinguish buildings from streets was a small wonder. Street lamps were barely different from the sickly trees, which some generous city planner had granted a place at verious street corners and even the water an in the puddles was as thick and non-transparent as the concrete floor on which they lay, waiting to evaporate. Ceaster was the city's name, in which the people were to busy to notice that they were surrounded my more exhaust than breathable air.
As grim as Ceaster appeared, the people who lived here considered themselves lucky. There was no vermin. No abandoned, shabby houses, as there were in many other towns of this time. All unnecessary had been banned from the city over the years. No beggars. No playing children. No colour.
No colour - except for the highly visible grey, occupying every inch of the city in its endless variations and shades. But what a city would Ceaster be, if not for its hidden places, its secret venues, where some people tried to conserve the past. It were these little havens of quiet where the city's colour hid. While it was gone everywhere else, here, where strong red battled sunny yellow for the best spaces, there was almost too much of it.
Only few people knew these places and who stumbled upon them once would not find them a second time once he had left. The small oases of Ceaster were dying out, one after the other, and the people of the city were too busy to notice.

In the North of Ceaster, in an alley winding along between some of the numerous, high apartment buildings, was one of these last refuges for those, who had not lost themselves in the grey. Musicians, actors, conjurors and artists of all kind gathered here, to witness the last colourful days of Ceaster. And amidst their gaudy bustling they found - some pleased, some weary and some only surprised - two young people who did not belong here.

Tyra walked along the pathway, sometimes simply walking and other times jumping, in order to avoid smacking into an oddly-dressed person, stand of some sort, or a combination between the two.

Her light purple hair got into her face a bit as she went along her way, making it hard to not trip and fall.
She was looking for her friend- a boy whom she'd known since before the academy, they were inseparable and often mistaken for brother and sister.

Tyra loved to break away from the drab dull atmosphere of Ceaster, and see color. That was why she had come to this place in the northern area of the city- and she had planned to take her friend as well, after making plans she expected to find him there.



But she couldn't find him.....yet.
After turned, she saw a familiar face and grinned, running up and hugging the figure tightly!
"Hi!" she exclaimed, tightening her grip on the person.
It was her friend, who she had spent five minutes (at least) searching for.

Lenan grinned at her. His face gave away how overwhelmed he was by all the colours and smells - food and spices of all kind, meat and roasted onions here and fresh bred and beer over there and something else in every other corner. And the sounds! Instruments and songs mingling until all of them became one single, complex melody, accompanied by the rumbling of voices and the clatter of dishes and the subtle noise of people moving about.

"This is amazing!", he said to Tyra, hugging her back tightly. Lenan, who had lived with the grey for all his life, would have never imagined a place so full of life. It truly was beautiful.

While the two teenagers were busy hugging each other, many people had stopped whatever they had been doing to stare at the strangers. In a place like this, everyone knew the others' faces by heart, living in secrets required a certain intimacy. They all seemed to fit in well with their environment. The floor was covered with white sand and small, colourful pebble stones, the walls covered with dyed fabrics and large posters and above their heads dangled coloured paper lanterns, their dancing light scaring away the emerging darkness of dusk. And the people dancing in the alley were just as colourful, nobody wore two pieces of clothing of the same colour. Their clothes, their hair and jewellery were the shimmering fish in this ocean of colour.
Now, however, as their attention was drawn from their various activities to the strangers in their middle, a small part of the grey seemed to have crept into the alley. The crowd grew thicker, surrounding the two newcomers, until there was no way out for them.
"What is your business here?", a faceless voice came from the crowd.
"Who are you?", an old woman asked, standing up front, her wary eyes moving from Tyra to Lenan.
"You shouldn't be here" - "Let them say something!" - "How did you learn about this place?" - "What do you want?" - "Now wait! Let them speak!" More and more people rose their voices, until they played their own, hostile music.

Lenan shuddered and almost found himself hiding behind his friend. She was just a few months his senior, but had always been like a big sister to him. In his pale grey clothes he knew he stood out like wolf amongst sheep, but he had not done anything wrong. Nothing he was aware of, at least.

Tyra growled quietly, stepping in front of Lenan protectively.
She didn't understand why they were all suddenly so hostile towards them....

But she didn't let her anger show. Instead, she decided, it was best to play it safe and tell the (sort of) truth.

"The color," she responded. "We found this place because of the color....It's so pretty, compared to the dull gray in the city....not to say that gray is a bad color, but there's just way too much of it...variety is great."

Tyra felt slightly overprotective of her friend, but that was normal. She liked to think of him as a little brother, and she wouldn't let anything touch him.

Even if she was only a few months older....

Her voice was not heard over the noise of all the others. Some of the people who had gathered looked no less scared than the two teenagers themselves, while others seemed downright angry. Most of them, however, simply stared at the two strangers full of suspicion.

"Now, look at those poor children! They're all scared!", a deep voice rumbled through the alley, louder than all the other voices and resonating from the decorated walls it seemed to chase all the grey away, like a cock-crow chased away the night. The crowd fell silent and turned to face the owner of that powerful voice that had spoken with such authority. They moved uneasy and finally birthed the words' originator.
Dispraisingly he placed himself before the two teenagers, facing the crowd, his broad shoulders almost wide enough for two men his size. He seemed well-known to the people, as they kept silent, looking up at him with respect, while the giant turned to face the teens. His features were surprisingly gentle, almost fatherly.
"Forgive my friends. They are not used to visitors and seem to have lost their sense of hospitality." An apologetic smile crossed his face, hidden behind a bushy, black beard, which fell down unto the man's chest and ended there in several pearly braids. Below was something, that looked like a turquoise nightgown, even though it was obviously meant to be an everyday garment. It clashed with the ruby coloured trousers the man wore, and even more so with the mustard shoes, but in comparison to the general overload of colours around, he was almost clad plainly.
"Did you get lost? Then I will tell you the right way home. However, should you want to keep us company and celebrate the last Deagian with us, I welcome you to join us." With a huge hand he waved at the embarrassed crowd behind him. As much as they had seemed hostile, the man seemed inviting and friendly and the people tried their best to follow his lead. By now, the more curious among them had made their way to the front, openly observing the teenagers like shy animals.

Lenan was still hiding behind his friend, but he seemed to relax a little and his curiosity surfaced again.
"Does that mean we can stay?", he asked Tyra, whispering. He seemed a lot shier now than he would ever have admitted he was. However, that was probably no news to Tyra, she knew him as well as a book read a hundred times.

"I think it does," Tyra murmured in reply. She could see that the previously hostile people were starting to back off- they didn't all suddenly seem welcoming and happy, but they weren't all suspicious and intimidating either.

It was definitely an improvement, thanks to that man who was standing before them.

"We would like to join you for a while, if that would be alright," Tyra announced, speaking for both of them. Regardless of Lenan's opinion.

The place was too interesting not to explore.

The tall man smiled down at the teenagers, pleasantly surprised of the girl's reply, before stepping aside as though he wanted to welcome them into his home.

"Welcome to the last Deagian. My name is Norban. Are you... alone?", he stopped for a moment, observing them carefully. "Do... do your parents know, you're here?" It was hard to guess whether he thought they should - or rather not.

Meanwhile, the crowd behind Norban started to dissolve. The people resumed attending their various businesses, and bit by bit, the noises of the party started up again. Music started playing, and accompanied by the sound of guitars and flutes, conversations were picked up again, gifts were made and all seemed to proceed where they had left off, as though someone had stopped the time and now set it in motion again.

Only Norban stayed with the two teenagers, waiting for an answer with a friendly, but slightly reserved expression.

Lenan decided to let Tyra talk for the both of them, while his eyes followed the people and their bustling about. He felt like a little boy, not like a sixteen-year-old young man, awestruck by all the noises and colours and smells. He was tempted to hold on to his friend, as to not be swept away by all the commotion.

Tyra watched the sudden change, fascinated at how quickly everything returned to normal. Just like someone had un-paused the world...

"Well....err..."
Tyra didn't know if it would be better to lie or tell the truth in this scenario. If she told the truth...well...her parent's didn't know she was here, and she wasn't sure about Lenan's. But something she did know was that if they found out she was here without permission...she'd get into trouble.

And then there was the problem of what this guy would do about her answer- would he even care if their parent's knew they were here? Would he tell them?

If he didn't care, then the sudden worrying would all be a waste, but...Tyra didn't like to lie.

After a split second of debating this in her head, the girl eventually decided to tell the truth. After all, lying never seemed to get people anywhere, especially in this day and age.

"Our parent's don't know we are here," she answered, her voice confident enough that it did not betray the hint of fear she felt.

All the while, she kept glancing around the area, feeling mesmerized by the different sights and smells....l

Oh, she hoped Norban wouldn't make them leave...

With a mix of amusement and worry, Norban watched the girl's face before she decided to talk. When she had ended, he looked at Lenan. He seemed to be a little intimidated, letting his friend do all the talking. Norban wondered what it would take to make him talk. He was the one of his two guests who looked... greyer.

"Well", the giant started, his expression friendly and welcoming as ever, "follow me! Wouldn't want you to get lost here, now, would I?" With a quick glance back at the two teenagers he turned and made his way through the alley, past the celebrating people.

"Deagian", he said after a while, his deep voice resonating from his barrel-sized chest, "is the celebration of colours. This is the last Deagian that will be had in this city. Many have already left Ceaster, but the same is happening to other cities. Most people forget the colours. It is like a sickness that spreads to all sides. You have found one of the last resorts and you could not have come at a better time."

By now they had reached a low door, through which Norban almost had to force his massive body to get inside. It smelled nicely of fresh herbs and lemons, a cool blueish-green light filled the room Norban had led the teenagers to. Aside from the group of three, there were only a handful of people inside and none of them seemed to take much notice of the newcomers. The noise of the celebrating was cushioned, but the music had found its way inside, as though the building's walls filtered the sound.

"A long time ago, the whole city looked like this place. Well, not entirely that... much and excessively, of course. But a little of all this was everywhere", Norban explained to them. "By now, many people believe that one day, there will be no place left like this. Nobody will remember Deagian. Only very few have hope that there is a place the grey sickness cannot reach. It is a hidden place and not everyone can go there. Only those free of the grrey sickness are allowed to travel to that place." What Norban said almost sounded like an offer. He sunk down into a large cushion. Its was a surprisingly good match to all of the different kinds of clothes he wore. With a nod of his head, he pointed towards two more cushions of the same kind, inviting the two teenagers to sit. Between them was a low table, on it a candle, heating a bowl of scented oil - which seemed to be the origin of the herbal and citrus aroma.

Tyra listened, her eyes lighting up with wonder when Norban mentioned what the city had been like years earlier.
It was sad that the gray sickness had taken over...

She wished that she had been fortunate enough to live when the city had all been like this place, this magical place full of music and color!

It was hard to imagine the city like this.

Tyra sat down, listening to Norban talk about this strange place. Somewhere the grayness couldn't reach?

The girl had a hard time believing any such place could exist...but, then again, there was this festive area she was in now!

But, according to what Norban had just said, even this wonderful place would eventually become gray, dull, and lifeless...

Tyra inhaled the scent of the candle, loving the smell of the herbs and citrus.
"Can you tell me a little bit more about this place that won't become colorless?" she asked, her voice full of curiosity. Maybe, just maybe, she could find it...it would be a wonderful adventure.

Lenan was just as curious as his companion. He listened closely, leaning forward in his seat as though the tale of times long gone and strange places were literally drawing him in. Maybe they were going to get to see that place Norban was talking about? However, there was also worry on the boy's face.

"What... what is the grey sickness? Why is it here? All these people have their colours, where do they go? Why don't they just bring the colours back?", he asked - his curiosity finally beating his shyness.

Norban nodded slowly.
"Those people who don't lose their colours, like the rest, leave the cities. The ones who stay become... dull and dreary and... and miserable. And wherever the others will go, the same will happen. Bit by bit, the grey will spread, the blindness and the indifference and...", Norban shrugged, a sad smile scurrying through his beard towards his guests, before he dropped his hands into his lap.
"The grey sickness has always been around, Lenan. But the people needed colours - not only those you can see, but everything that belongs to it. Music, smells, change... everything you can find here tonigh. Everything, which in all of Ceaster you can only find here and only tonight. Some people forgot they needed colours a long time ago and the number of these colourless people grew with time. They did not know they were missing something until it was too late. Some did not notice it at all and lived their whole life in grey and by now there are so many of them that the grey is unstoppable. There are even people representing the grey, making sure it can spread unopposed.
"They are the reason my friends greeted you in such an... unwelcoming fashion. They are scared. And fear is the grey's strongest ally, because where there is fear you cannot be happy. Colours and happiness go hand in hand, you know?"
The more he spoke, the smaller Norban seemed to get.
"That is why the secret city is our only hope. Even if the whole world is lost, we will be safe there, as will our colours. Nobody can find this place unless they are led to it, it is absolutely safe. But who goes there can never come back - and that is why we cannot allow the grey to go there." He threw Lenan and Tyra a serious look.

"You are both so young. You are curious and free of fear. It is people like you, we draw our hope from. I can show you how to get to Scinanburg, but only, if you are certain. There is no coming back from this place - and I can't go with you. As the city's guardian, I am the only person to show people like you the way. And until I have led the last of us to safety, I cannot leave."

For a while, Norban fell silent and only the happy music from outside filled the air. He seemed thoughtful, unsure what to tell Tyra and Lenan.
"If you go home tonight, you will probably not be able to come back here. If you talk to your parents about it, if word got to the wrong people... If you decide to... to go to Scinanburg, your families will miss you. People will search for you, but they will never find you. You can - never - come back", Norban said with emphasis, looking into their eyes with intense sincerity.

"It is a safe place, where they will take you in and give you a home. You are needed there, to keep the colours alive. I know you will leave a lot behind, but you would receive a lot in return, as well. A whole new life, full of possibilities you will never have here."