Chameleon Magazine

There once was a city that shone brighter than any other. Its towers were capped with golden roofs that caught the sun and threw light across the plains. The rulers of the city were proud of their creation and proclaimed to all lands:

“Here, no one shall fall without being caught. Our roofs are shields; our walls, protection.”

And for many years, the people believed it true. When storms came, they huddled beneath the golden glow and were comforted. When hunger struck, they were fed. When sickness visited, healers walked their streets.

But gold, though it gleams, grows heavy with time. As the roofs multiplied and the rulers’ halls expanded, they began to whisper among themselves:

“The sick take too much shelter.”

“The weak are too costly.”

“The light of the city dims under their shadows.”

So, in secret, they began to change the laws.

Not all at once—just small turns of language, quiet shifts of meaning. They built new gates, harder to pass through, and demanded proof of worth before granting care.

One by one, the ill were told to leave the city until they could show they were no longer a burden.

The rulers called this efficiency.

At first, those cast out waited at the walls, certain the gates would open again. But days turned into years. They built small camps in the dust and called them the Outer Rings. There they shared what little they had—food, stories, hope.

One winter, a storm greater than any before struck the city. The golden roofs cracked under the weight of the wind. The rulers called for help, but none came; their voices vanished into the empty plains.

Then, from the Outer Rings, torches began to appear—lines of people walking through the snow, carrying blankets, food, and medicine. They entered through the broken gates not to conquer, but to care.

They rebuilt the city not with gold, but with open hands. The roofs no longer shone, but the streets glowed with warmth. And it was said ever after:

A city that casts out its sick will one day find itself unguarded against its own storm.

“The strength of a society is not in how it shines, but in how it shelters those who can no longer stand.”