The sorcerer who changed the color of his mood

⏱ ~6 min reading

On the hill where the road ends and the forest begins, there stood an old, very old castle. Its walls were overgrown with ivy, and instead of the usual panes, the windows had colored glass—red like ripe cherries, blue like the evening sky, amber like honey. When the sun shone through them, rainbow spots were drawn on the castle floor, and the air smelled of candle wax and dried herbs.

In this castle lived a wizard. His name was Color. He was neither old nor young - he had long gray hair braided in a braid, warm wrinkles around his eyes, like two rays of sunlight, and his voice was soft, low, like the buzzing of a bumblebee in a summer garden. On his shoulders he wore a cloak sewn from pieces of different colors, and each piece, as they said, was woven from someone's mood.

And Colorist also had a magic wand. It was thin, made of smooth walnut wood, with a small crystal star on the tip. This star did something amazing: when the wand touched a person, it glowed in the color that spoke of that person's mood.

When someone was happy, the wand would glow golden, like the sun at noon.

When I was sad, it was soft lilac, like the first twilight.

When he was scared, he was pink, like a petal of a smiling flower.

When he was angry, he was orange, like a hot fire in a stove.

People from all over the country came to Koloryk — both adults and children. Not so that he could enchant. But so that he could help them understand themselves. Because sometimes, as you know, a person himself cannot name what is inside him. It hurts — and where does it hurt? It hurts — and why? Koloryk knew how to show.

One rainy day, when heavy gray clouds hung over the castle and drops tapped softly on the colored windows, a boy came to the gate. Small, in a blue jacket, with wet bangs sticking to his forehead. His name was Levko. He was seven years old, and he had not been able to smile for three days.

The color opened it all by himself - he had no servants, only an old ginger cat named Saffron, who was sleeping in a chair by the fireplace at that moment.

"Come in, son," said the wizard. "Take off your wet jacket. Sit here by the fire.".

Levko came in. He didn't look at the sorcerer. He didn't say "good afternoon." He just sat down on a low stool and stared into the fire. Koloryk didn't ask anything. He poured hot stew into a clay cup—it smelled of dried apples and honey—set it in front of the boy and sat down opposite him.

They were silent for a few minutes. Only the firewood crackled in the fireplace and Saffron purred in his sleep.

"Lion," the wizard finally said softly. "May I touch your shoulder with my wand?"

Levko nodded.

The little girl slowly reached out her hand. The crystal star at the end of the wand tinkled faintly, like a small bell. She touched the shoulder and the light came on.

But the color was strange. Not lilac, like those who are simply sad. Not gray, like those who are tired. But green. A deep, quiet green—the color of moss under an old tree, the color of the first sprout breaking through the snow.

The colorist smiled.

“Green,” he said quietly.

“What does that mean?” Levko asked, looking up for the first time that evening.

The sorcerer took his hand in his own - warm, large, with fine wrinkles.

"Do you know what it's like in winter? Everything around is gray. The trees are bare, like skeletons. The ground is hard, frozen. It seems like nothing will grow here anymore, nothing will come to life. It's cold and empty.".

Levko nodded. He knew.

"And underground at this time," continued Koloryk, "something is happening. Quiet, invisible, but very important. The roots are not sleeping. They are slowly, slowly drinking moisture. The little buds are getting ready. The seeds are lying in the darkness and waiting for their moment. Everything green is still hiding. It is there, but it is not visible.".

“And the green color your wand showed is this, right?” Levko whispered.

— That's right, my dear. Your sadness now resembles a winter tree—bare, dark. But the green color tells me: a new spring is already ripening inside you. You just have to wait. Don't chase away winter, don't fight with it. Just wait—and it will leave on its own when the time comes.

Levko was silent for a long time. He looked into the fire. The same rainbow spots from the colored glass played in the fire. Suddenly something moved in his chest - unexpectedly, in a warm wave.

He remembered his mother—how she smiles in the kitchen when he comes home from school, how it smells of bread and an apron. He remembered his friend Sasha—how they chase a ball in the yard, and Sasha always laughs with that laugh of his, like jingling bells. He remembered that the sun outside the window, even now, even in the rain, is there somewhere. It's just that the clouds have covered it. For a while.

And Levko smiled. For the first time in three days. At first, a tiny smile, at the corners of his lips. Then wider. And then — for real, with dimples on his cheeks.

Koloryk said nothing. He just looked at the boy with warm eyes. Saffron woke up, stretched, and gently jumped onto Levka's lap.

When Levko was leaving the castle, the rain had stopped. A tiny piece of blue peeked through the clouds—as if the sky had winked at him. The boy put on his jacket, turned around, and looked at the wizard.

"Was the magic in your wand or in mine?"

The color boy smiled and bowed, solemnly, like a true wizard.

"Magic is always in your heart, son. I just reminded you.".

From that day on, Levko knew one secret. When he felt sad — and it happens to everyone, because we all go through winter and spring — he would whisper quietly to himself: "Green. It's just green. A new spring is already ripening inside me." And he waited. And spring would certainly come.

And Koloryk met new guests in his castle. Because there are not many wands with crystal stars in the world. And there are many people who are sad and don't know why. And someone has to remind them what color is inside.