The Artists Duel

I have to write this down while I am still in possession of the dream.

I was an artist working on some kind of memorial. There were many other artists working on different aspects of the same memorial. I assisted all the other artists with their work. They could not have completed their task without me. I gave them ideas and they used them. At the end of the project it was judged and each person's contribution was also judged. Every artist was mentioned except for me, even though those artists could not have been lauded without my help. One of them tried to intervene and tell of my work but he was taken away. Because no one told of my part in the work and there was no part of the memorial that was truly mine, I was judged to be an incompetent artist and sentenced to a duel.

I had an infant with me so I ran. I was hunted. I was told by a friend to hide in his empty house behind a false wall in a storage room. But the Hunter after me knew about the child. When he entered the storage room all he had to do was call my son's name and he cried, giving away our location.

The Artist's Duel is part martial arts and part Japanese calligraphy. Each duelist carries a pen or brush and a special kind of permanent ink. The duelists fly at each other from opposite ends of a room, leaping and executing acrobatics, while attempting to leave an ink mark on the opponent. A Judge sits with two charts, making marks as the duelists leave theirs. When enough marks have been made on one chart that duelist must die. I have never fought and the person I must fight has more experience than I (but no marks). I am the better artist and somehow I win the duel, leaving so many marks. Somehow during the duel my infant son - present because I ran with him - was given a mark on the top of his fuzzy head by my opponent. This had never happened before. The Judge created a chart for my son and recorded his mark even though he was not part of the duel. The charts are part of your permanent record kept by the government.

The few marks I received mean I have to labor in menial jobs for others. I am given interior decorating and feng shui work for the wives of government officials. If they are displeased with my work in any way I may be punished. My son becomes an artist in his own right as he grows. He is only 5 or 6 years old, but he is compared to the edgy contemporary work of another artist (his father?). My son comes with me when I work and he brings his own work with him. On one particular job I am given a time limit to finish. At the end of the allotted time the job is being inspected and I realize that my son's easel and his drawings litter a corner of the meditation room. He became bored with his drawing and went outside to play with the homeowner's children. While the judges decide what to do with him the fact that he bears a mark and has a duelist's chart in his record comes to light. I realize they will sentence him to a duel for child's play. He is only 6 and cannot hope to fight or defend himself. I can see him outside, running and playing without a care while I see his fate being blacked out by the Artists Mark he bears beneath his hair.

This is when I awoke. I can still see him running, sunlight highlighting his spiky dark hair that hides a terrible secret.