The Lie Spinner's Tale

Kalanie Saldajeno

Once upon a time, a village where monotony runs deep but tales of adventure and chivalry are the currency. A wall of thorns surrounds the kingdom, and only the bravest of warriors are allowed to venture outside to chase their adventures.

For centuries, the village people have been blessed by the ability to create the most beautiful tapestries. They would entwine different colored threads, and the result is always spectacular— lifelike, to be exact. As long as they have witnessed it, they can indeed replicate anything into their tapestries. Since only a small population of the citizens are allowed to go outside the walls, most of their tapestries are of ordinary sceneries. No matter how skilled the craftsmanship, if the subject is ordinary, no one will bat an eye. This is why a tapestry created by a warrior is highly coveted. The tapestries that they would spin upon arriving from the outside always contained unimaginable wonder. Creatures with iridescent scales shine upon exposure to light singing nymphs bathing in pristine waters, flowers that would gleam like the stars, and wolves with the most luscious fur that seems ready to come out from the fabric at any moment.

*** A little girl who lives on the outskirts always dreamed of going outside the wall of thorns. Her tiny hut was the closest house you can find to the only gate, and every day, she would peer out her window observing the warriors as they cross to the other side. She would count them one by one; some would return, some would not—but the possibility of never coming back never stopped the little girl's longing for the outside world.

One day, the little girl's curiosity got the best of her. She waited and waited for the next band of warriors to exit the gate. At the very last minute, before the gates wholly closed, she managed to shimmy her tiny little body and break free from the walls that have contained her for so long. She hung her head low, refusing to look up as she tried to calm herself. She could feel her tiny little body shaking at the excitement.

What will the outside look like? Will it be as colorful as the tapestries the warriors have created? Will she be able to meet magical creatures that can take inspiration for her art? A million thoughts are running through her head. She took three deep breaths, mustered all the courage she had, and finally looked up.

She looked around and could not believe her eyes. The outside world was different from the world she grew up inside the gates. The outside was incredible—revolting. There were no bright colors or magical creatures depicted in the warrior's tapestries, barren land, and total darkness. The little girl felt the blood rush to her head, and she started running. She felt like she made a fool out of herself. She always dreamed of going outside the wall of thorns and making a name for herself. She ever dreamed of the outside world and escaping the suffocating wall of thorns.

She finally got want but not like this. It was never supposed to end up like this.

A few days later, the village was abuzz with the news of a little girl discovered outside the gates. She didn't talk to anyone, and upon opening her mouth, the first thing that she asked for was neither food nor water. Instead, the little girl asked for a loom and multicolored threads and started weaving her tapestry. The villagers are in awe of her work; they started calling her a miracle, for she could craft fine pieces—finer than any warrior could ever craft. The little girl never went out of the thorns wall again, but she continued telling stories of her so called "adventures" from outside. Little did they know every story that would come out of her mouth are nothing but fragments of her imagination. Little did they know the only thing holding the threads of her tapestries are lies and deception.

The outside was not a fantasy land that the warriors make them out to be. The outside was a cold and cruel place devoid of any light and happiness. There were no flowers that gleam like the stars, but there was only total darkness. There were no singing nymphs in pristine waters, but only deafening silence. There were no creatures with iridescent scales that shine upon exposure to light. There was not a single creature that could survive in that wretched place. Over time the little girl lost the spark in her eyes. She wanted to confess to everything, but she felt terrible for her people. Her tapestries are continued to be revered by the villagers—she was their miracle. She can't possibly ruin everything for them, right? How could the warrior's stomach this deceit? They continue to make a fool out of every single one of them. Is it good that she knows everything, or is ignorance indeed bliss?

The little girl eventually grew up and got old. She continued to live her life but the emptiness she felt continued to claw at her from the inside out. She is nothing but a shell of her old self. She made up so many lies and deceived so many people to the point that she has lost track. How quickly she forgot! The lies she'd spoken had muddled everything. There was dangerous magic in lying. Lie long enough, and who could say what was real? Continue spinning your web of lies, and over time you'll believe it—that's what the little girl did.