It is during the early extremes of the day that I am reminded of such an independent but young, innocuous life. Although my life cannot relate, somehow in its tedium it feels so soothingly modest. Its image glides throughout my morning, the illuminated fog further clouding my thoughts. Like nostalgia for a memory I’ve never had. It brings me a pang of surreal comfort. Subtle in its foreshadowing. The promise of a vibrant future, but an uneventful afternoon.
The sunset rose to my back, its glitter shunned. The spring plants and trees took hold of their place as seasonal reminders, the bright yellow tips of Shanda daisies glimmering in the newborn light. Undoubtedly late, the birds finally began to orchestrate their tune. It was a slight, unnerving sound to me. I assumed the day was quite chilly from their inactivity. As I sat on my porch I remained still, pondering my earlier thoughts. Perhaps it was the loneliness accentuating its effect on me. I often questioned why I dealt with it so obsessively every morning. Was it the bleakness, happiness or its incongruity that amused me so much? The apathetic vibe of my surroundings did nothing to end my curiosity.
My day slightly shared the idleness I was recalling. After cleansing myself of weariness, I had plenty of belongings to tend to. I started towards the cabinet below my stairs. Glaring at the scrolling cocoa wood that decorated its exterior, I shifted through until I found a cluster of dishes. I stole them from their place and set it on the lounger behind me. Then, navigating horizontally on my cabinet I flipped to a small, shiny faucet. I realized there was no basin underneath to catch the water. Expressionlessly I treaded upstairs to retrieve one.
Just above the flight of steps was a lengthy, impressive corridor. I sorted my possessions in this hall, placed away in many rooms in many different places. Yet somehow I always felt misplaced here, sometimes pacing this room back and forth appreciating its splendor. Today was busy though, so I only had a moment for one side trip. I stopped by the third door on the left. The light was off as I peeked in. I slipped my finger through the door and struck the switch before I entered. Almost immediately, the sources of light coating the walls flashed. A handful of mirrors in all sizes illuminated. The bright daze of color coming from my collection was overwhelming. Three years ago this kind of light could have left me blind. Maybe it was because of this that I found it so enjoyable.
Peeking behind me I turned my view to one of the miniature lights. I blocked it with my hand so I could see myself in the glare. Turning around, the image was shimmering. My stretched, navy, Lavaillen hair messed and unruly covering my shallow face, my body and stature being just as slender and undernourished. Typically I was clothed in red and blue robes. This day was no different. I found them comfortably oversized; it was common wear in my village. The community generally found it unsuitable for me to bear such clothing though. Everyone saw me as a young boy, as it should be. These robes were mainly considered to be for older, matured men. Chief Galstead however, insisted on me dressing based on my experience, and not based on my form.
Footsteps echoed from downstairs, a sign that Galstead had arrived. Glancing around in the vividness, I made out a shelf. I grabbed a small mirror to keep for myself, and set out to greet my visitor. Galstead was a plump man, dawning specially tailored attire. His head shaved, a jolly, calming and familiar face. On his back he was carrying a small green sack, I assumed it was for my travels. I was greeted to a smile as I walked down to meet him.
“Good morning Jade. I see you’ve been preparing.” Says Galstead.
“I know you get tired of me asking, but are you sure you’re ready?” he asked concerned.
“Chief, I have been more than ready for three years.” I replied.
His smile faded slightly. “You know there are plenty of things you have yet to experience.”
I kept my face blank.
“I’ve tried my best to present you with everything this village has to offer; I figured you would find plenty of other places much more promising then this tiny community however.” He continued.
“Jade, the entire village respects your deeds. It wouldn’t offend any of us if you wanted to take some time to explore new environments.”
“I can explore while I am on my trip, it makes no difference to me how much time I take. There is no point in delaying it.”
“But that’s not true. Jade, there shouldn’t be any regrets-“
“There won’t be any” I interrupted.
I handed him the mirror I was holding, gesturing for him to store it away.
“Of course.” He obliged.
As he rummaged through the bag to make space for the mirror he resumed tending to me.
“At least comprehend what you are so determined to protect. I’m sure we aren’t the only ones to appreciate you.”
“This village is all I want to save from harm. I don’t need anymore reason.”
“But that’s not the only reason. It’s for you too. No need to apply such a headstrong attitude and neglect life-changing experiences. Experiences I am sure you will be exposed to throughout your trip.”
“Hm” I mumbled, showing I was tired of this conversation. I realized I had forgotten to retrieve my basin.
“Excuse me.” I set out again.
Past my previous room I came to a closet. Taking a basin, I carried it back down. The chief was staring out the window.
“Chief, I apologize but I’m not yet done tending to my belongings. I would like my dishes and silverware to be given to the less fortunate, so I must clean them first.”
“Its no hurry Jade.” He spouted hastily.
The faucet was light and delicate. I revolved it around, until it was at the most heated option available. Filling the basin with steam, I could feel the temperature rising throughout the room. I scrolled through the cabinet for a rag and proceeded to wash each saucer. Galstead offered to help, but withdrew his hand at one slight touch of the water.
“Tsk, that water is extremely hot. Do you feel the scorch?”
I shook my head. “It doesn’t bother me.”
As I continued to wash, Galstead wondered around my home. Pausing at several antiques, he placed his hands behind him. Finally he stopped to stare out a window. The chief observed daybreak to the sound of my clattering tableware. There was a small pause before he began to cheerfully whistle a wistful melody.
I attempted to converse further.
“I heard the children outside humming that song.”
“Oh?” He turned.
“Yes, they always sing it as they skip ropes and climb trees.”
He gave an awkwardly high-pitched laugh.
“Those children, what do you see in their futures?”
“You know I haven’t learned to forecast such news yet.” I admitted.
“I don’t mean truthfully, just tell me what it is you think they’ll be doing years from now. When they’ve learned our values and passed our standards for maturity.”
“They’ll be living through the aftermath. Collectively working with their peers to ensure the village’s safety I hope.”
“Do you see yourself with them?”
“Is that what you would desire?”
“The point I’m trying to make is, they will still be here. They know of nowhere else they’d be beneficial to, and it is of no concern to them.”
“I’m just trying to picture your return, if that is what you feel-“
“There is no doubt in my mind that I will return Chief.” I interrupted again.
“Well it’s just that, I can’t picture things being as you say. Will you return to tell these children of the many enlightening experiences you are sure to face?” he asked almost insistently.
“Do you believe it will influence them too greatly?”
“Its not a terrible thing for you to share those experiences, its just that I feel you will not be so sure about coming back once you’ve truly been enlightened.” Galstead seemed convinced.
“This village is where I was raised, and when I get back I’ll be sure not only to tell the children of my ventures, but also to assist with any situations that may occur during the aftermath.”
The water was beginning to get cool. I ran my hand across the soaking dishes that remained. As time passed I could hear the chief’s long, cavernous breaths. Like the relief of a soldier, his burden would soon be the worlds. His shoulders remained heavy, his eyes tense as he solemnly stared the daylight absent.
“Jade, you are very privileged.”
He paused to step closer. The sun no longer blocked his paleness. From my perspective I could see the effects of his weariness. Unlikely a worldly sage, but time wore on him nonetheless.
“More privileged than the children in this village ever will be, then they will ever dream to be.” He commented.
I was taken aback by such a harsh truth coming from the Chief. There was another pause as he shifted through the plates I had cleaned, placing them in order.
“We’ve already talked before about the dangers of this trip, but I assume you haven’t yet questioned about your protectors?”
“I can’t imagine you researching anything on them.” Galstead remarked.
He was correct in this statement. I would be traveling with three others, though I was indifferent towards their status or personality. They were escorting me on my journey, nothing more.
“Two of them aren’t much older than you. Perhaps they would make good friends.”
“As much as I wouldn’t mind that, I believe it’d be best to distance myself.”
“Jade, I wouldn’t find it selfish at all to enjoy being in their company. Don’t worry about troubling them. They’ve all been informed about you at least.”
I was curious as to what he meant, but the situation didn’t feel appropriate for me to question. I turned my head, hoping he would read the curiosity in my gesture.
“Most likely more than you’ve bothered to learn about them.” He chuckled.
Disappointed in the withdrawal he gave afterwards, I shifted my view to my bag. The chief seemed less energetic. There was a significant difference from the attitude he had entered with.
“Please, your endeavor and skill will bring more to humanity than any deceptive smiling omen can ever conceive.” He chided, almost stealing the thoughts from my head.
And with that there wasn’t much else to discuss. Chief Galstead would get a few workers to make sure my goods would be valuable to somebody in my absence. We are to meet my escorts at the north village exit. Hoping our haste would be in good civility, I set out ahead of Galstead. There was concern that leaving him behind would add doubt to my credibility of being Afthartos. His last mention to me was the only regret I may have shared; If only a little, however shallow it can be considered.
“Jade, I was sincerely hoping your parents would be the ones to see you off.”
Pacing through the dreamlike hills, I could see the contented figures of scarecrows as they fulfilled their unmindful role; Stagnant, their tranquility rousing the paranoid suspicions of weary travelers. Some garnished with their owners belongings. Fiddles, dresses, hats, and other accessories playfully goaded the imitations. Only the morning fog could dent their posture. Tinted by the sky itself, they gave me another strong feeling of melancholy.
I toyed with the idea of farm life every so often. Through the tedious care it brings a rewarding calm. Scarecrows decorating the disjointed horizons, the crops proliferating with the conditions, and the sense of fragileness surrounding the plants felt welcoming to me. I subconsciously sought after a more utopian appeal. It was another distant dream of mine. Its consistency was infallible, and trying to recall the experience was always pleasant. Indeed, it was a short but memorable recollection. Deep, lifeless, grey undertones adorned the reverie, painting the ground. I picture clearly my stumbling, falling tenderly through sturdy foliage. As the blades of grass grew thick I stumbled more. Nothing to hold me from the stars, the heavenly lights of the cosmos laid me to rest in the unborn meadow.
Dazed by my own absentmindedness, I attempted to evoke a final prayer as I treaded.
May the world be true to Leah’s axis and guide me through the northern path. Stay mindful of your craters, both sea and land as they revolve past my voyage.
Gazing in flight, the peak of the mountain lay well below me. From above I saw the Sun approaching its destination west, while from the east I could make out the Moon’s looming presence. Both visible, they were a heartening entryway between the entities as I made my way to the edge of this world.
Subject: Postin here so I can work on this at school and home. 
Wed Sep 03, 2008 6:58 am
