A Growing Hope

Softly Jenna paced with neat measured steps from the northern door, towards the centre of the Atrium. It was a large round chamber, the floor tiled, apparently randomly, in blue, green and white. A huge glass roof soared overhead, but the room was dominated by an asymmetric branching column rising from the centre of the room. At first glance it gave the impression of an Espera tree growing there, but on closer inspection, she could see it was carved from brown stone. Though a different colour, she had observed that the stone appeared similar to the three coloured stones she held in her hand.

Directly in front of her was a chair, almost a throne, supported by a low platform which encircled the column. As she neared the low platform, she stopped and stared at the floor. Putting the round blue stone down on the blue tile on which she was standing, she then walked across to the western door.

Again Jenna counted her steps towards the centre of the room, placed the green stone on the green tile where she stopped, and crossed to the third door - the eastern door.

Repeating the process for the eastern door, she sighed as she placed the white stone on the white tile. Her brow wrinkled in frustration but she wasn’t surprised. Over the last two days she had followed the same path countless times, with the same result – absolutely nothing.

She had kept her mother’s journal with her for the last thirty years, and she had read it so many times that she could recite the whole thing in her head. Yet again, she took it out and read the section that detailed the placement of the stones.


"Approach as a petitioner,15 steps
Colour match the stone to tile.
Go back in time - 10 paces,
Place the next stone as before.
when 5 is paced, the last stone, placed
Hope will grow once more."

So many people depending on her! For thirty years, the Hazzari people had been brutalised, their spirits crushed. It was only now that the enemy had been driven back to their northern home that it was safe for her to return to this place. But her people were desperate, and they stood on the brink of a civil war.

Jenna did not remember this place, and yet, something here was familiar. In times of peace and plenty, the Atrium had been the venue for audiences. The Atrium was only half a day’s walk from the city, and each workday, petitioners had been permitted to enter through the eastern door and approach the Hazzar. Often times, there were no petitions to be presented, as the free peoples of the city had few disputes that required the attention of one so high.

Her mother’s journal contained many passages, some amazingly clear and direct, while others appeared the product of fevered imagination. Early entries were taken up with her life as the wife of the Hazzar, attending the audiences in the Atrium, watching the many different people coming and going.

Her mother had not been present on the only two occasions during her lifetime that the western door had been used.

Jenna wondered if she should try placing the stones once more. She crossed to the centre of the room and sat on the edge of the platform. Flicking through the journal seeking inspiration, she scanned the entries describing the first assaults on the Hazzari by the enemy. As the enemy drew nearer to the city, her mother chronicled a devastating flood of misery that consumed the Hazzari people like a ravenous beast.

The later entries expressed her mother’s fervent desire that the hope of the people might be preserved and renewed with the information contained in the journal. Some of the entries in the journal appeared to be confused, her mother rambling about how only a true daughter of the Hazzari might read the solution within the pages of this book.

As far as Jenna could see, the interpretation of the clues truly was not that difficult: the first line, to approach as a petitioner - that pointed to standing at the door, and then taking 15 paces forwards towards where the throne was.

The second part – to go backwards in time, she thought suggested to go anti clockwise to the next door before walking again towards the centre of the room. With only one door remaining it was pretty simple to work out where to start. But even then, for some reason it wasn’t working.

Jenna knew that she had been in this chamber before, she had a vague sense of belonging when she looked around. She had not been there for 30 years, and as a three year old she had not really understood the significance of the room. Now as she looked around, she recalled the ancient teachings she had been taught by her tutors while in hiding from the enemy.

There were three doors, these signified the passages of life. The eastern door signified birth, and this was always the door by which a person entered the room, from the lowest, to the Hazzar himself, all entered life as equals. This door was birth, the beginning of life.

The second northern door was the door by which most people left, to go on with their lives with what they had come to the Atrium to gain. This door signified change and growth. This was the continuation of life.

A very few left by the Western door. This door was reserved for the removal of condemned criminals and once taken through the door by the decree of the Hazzar, the sentence was carried out immediately. Thus the western door was always death, the end of life.

Flicking back through the journal to the earlier entries describing the Atrium audiences prior to the enemy attacks, Jenna read again what her mother had written.

When the workday began, the Hazzar would take his seat and patiently await the petitioners. I would usually sit on the southern side of the room to catch the best light in the morning. How handsome he looked making judgments and taking the small gifts of tribute from the hands of the people.

Jenna stood and crossed to the southern side of the room, and, crouching down with her back to the wall, tried to visualise the scene that would have played out 30 years before.

Almost at once, it struck her that something wasn’t quite right, that there was a problem. If the people entered from the eastern door, and the Hazzar was seated on his chair facing the north door, how could her mother have observed her handsome husband at work?

Her mother had specified that her preferred seat was the south wall, and due to the angle of the sun coming in, that must be true, so the only thing that would fit was that the chair had been moved.

Excited now, sure that she was finally close to an answer, Jenna turned the pages until she found the section that had always confused her the most.

When the enemy had sacked the city, and turned their hungry eyes on the Atrium, the Hazzar declared that he must now face the enemy. He turned his face away from the desperate cries of the many petitioners, for surely there had never been so many before. For the first time in the history of our people, the Hazzar had eyes only for his enemies.

Jenna had as a child decided that her father had gone mad and decided to fight the enemy with his armies. But she now realised that a message might have been carefully embedded in those words, for surely the man that her father had been would not have truly ignored the cries of his people.

And the enemy had attacked from the north! The chair was too heavy to be moved by one person, but if the chair had originally faced the eastern door, it was a simple matter to repeat the placement of the stones BEGINNING at the eastern door, at birth, moving on to the northern door, and ending with the final door at the western door, signifying the end of life.

As soon as the third stone was laid on the tile at her feet, a strange glow appeared in the air. The stones seemed to reflect a rainbow of colours into the centre of the room, even though the room had been dim moments before. Jenna could not see the source of the light, but she could see the result, for in the centre of the room, a live Espera tree now was growing.

Finally she knew what her mother had called the hope of her people. If the tree could be returned to life after 30 years dormant, so could the spirits of her people. It would be a hard road back, and perhaps they would be forever changed as a result of the long fought war against the enemy, but wasn’t change a part of life too?

With the awakening of the tree before them, the people would not fail her.