Rodent walked for some time, even though the village was always in sight. He felt a hunger in his stomach and a thirst in his mouth, wishing that he had drank from the pond before he left. Only after leaving the woods did the man realize how tired and exhausted he was.

If it were not for the village in view, he would have probably fallen over and slept, allowing whatever happened to happen as Sila had predicted. However, he kept on stumbling forward. He kept pace, which could have been faster, but he ensured that, so long as he moved, he would eventually get to where he was going.

And though he was becoming light-headed, he fought the weakness coming over him, even though that meant breathing through his mouth. He still held Stick, which had become the cane he was using now. It helped him appear non-threatening in case the village was on alert for unsavoury sorts.

The man walked… and his mind started to drift… thinking of a time long ago.

----------------------------------------

"How come your fantasy books never capture all the adventure parts?"

Rodent, punching the air as a black-and-white boxing match was on the TV, blinked as he looked at the young lady on the hospital bed. She was taller and larger than Rodent, making him feel like a kid.

"Whaddya mean?" he asked.

"Well… your books are all about the heroes going on adventure… but it never goes into detail about all the walking they do." The lady flipped through the pages without lifting her eyes from them. "Like. They just end up in a village. Or they're riding into the castle—or war."

Rodent's head fell to the side. "That's bad?"

"Well… it just doesn't feel accurate, I guess." The lady flipped back to where she had been. "It's just the battles and the cool stuff and dialogue. Which is alright, I guess, because that's the stuff people are reading for." Her shoulders lowered, but her arms remained still—plugged into differing machines. "But if you were to go on one of these adventures like you're always saying you want to—then there's going to be a whole bunch of walking."

Rodent snickered as he faced the lady, puffing out his chest and making a face, beating a fist against his heart. "I know that! I'll be able to handle it, no problem!"

"Is that so? You, with your lungs, can handle a twelve-hour march?" The lady seemed sinister despite the plug covering her nose and most of her face. "All that walking without music or conversation. Just one foot after another, rain or hot sun, as the setting around you largely remains the same?"

"I…"

"Walking with others or alone, waiting for carts to pull or for horses to rest, knowing all that silent, boring walking is all you'll be doing for the next four days?" The lady was smug. "You'd still want to be in one of these stories? You don't think you would collapse and get eaten by vultures before even reaching your first village?"

"H-Hey! Give me a bit of credit here!" Rodent became angry and almost growled. "I could stick it out when the going gets tough! Besides… I wouldn't venture in that boring way you said." He nodded and regained his confidence. "I'd find ways to make my adventures interesting. It wouldn't just be a bunch of walking!"

The lady lost the smug, malicious air around her, coming then to relax and close the book. "How come you keep sneaking into my room? All I do is try to upset you."

"Because you say things that I would never have thought of," Rodent returned simply. "Makes me think twice about stuff. That's not a bad thing."

"And the way I do it? That's okay, too?"

"I dunno," Rodent shrugged before the end of her bed. "You seem more bothered by all of that than me."

The lady deflated.

Silence held.

And then she looked to the side—as much as she could—the long, vertical window beside her bed. "I suppose I'm just jealous people can walk in the first place. It's such a simple thing to be angry about… yet it makes me mad anyway."

"I'd be mad too if I couldn't use my legs."

The lady glared at him.

Rodent realized that was a dumb thing to say. "Sorry."

The lady inhaled greatly, composing herself. "It's okay." She settled. "Sometimes I forget you're really dumb."

"Mhm."

"You're not supposed to… ah, never mind." The lady shook her head and returned to looking out the window. "I don't think I like your books. I don't like how it just always cuts to the good stuff—the cool stuff." She gazed at the view of the outside world—at something that was not there. "I want a story about a hero who just walks and sees the stuff around them. That pauses to appreciate waterfalls and draws down what they see chiseled on cave walls. I want them to stop at patches of flowers and appreciate them for a moment—I really want to feel their entrance into a village or place after a long time and journey alone."

Rodent watched the lady as she spoke, seeming stunned and smitten, wanting to say something but knowing he would ruin the perfect moment. Just then, he started to cough, a light fit in which he turned away from the lady—though the coughs came harder and faster and sounded wetter and worse as they continued.

"Rodent?"

Rodent tried to wave up a hand that he was okay, but instead, he fell down, hacking even worse as he was choking and could not catch his breath. The lady seemed even more worried for him.

Still, as she tried to call for help, the boy instead fled out of the room into the hall where he could safely collapse, turning into a ball as his vision darkened. His mind became light, his hearing started to fade, and only the vibrations and pounding of his coughing came through.

----------------------------------------

Two guards stood on the outskirts of the village as the wind blew through. There was nothing to do. A faint path formed by countless years of wheels rolling from here to elsewhere. One of the guards exhaled heavily and nearly slumped.

"Don't do it," the one guard started. "Steinith might be watching."

The other guard groaned. "Dude. I couldn't care less that Steinith might be watching."

"He'll report us."

Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

"So?"

"So we'll be kicked out of the guard."

"Dude. That has been your fear since we nearly washed out of the academy." The first guard turned enough so the second guard could feel his gaze through the three slits of his covering helmet. "It's why we agreed to take this post—why we agreed to follow Steinith."

The second guard was silent.

"And what has that got us? Standing guard in random villages where nobody will think to test us?" The first guard actually sighed and lowered his shoulders a bit. "I mean, we joined to be proper soldiers, right? But you and I didn't fit the build one bit."

The second guard groaned.

"We're still not proper soldiers," the first guard continued. "We're just dressed-up expendable failures willing to travel to stupid far-off places. Is that what you wanted to be when you signed up—when you enlisted?"

The second guard nearly made a hissing sound. "Hey. Keep it down. Steinith might hear."

"Oh yeah? Well, Steinith can—"

"Don't." The second guard raised a hand. "It might be more than your job if you finish that."

The first guard paused for a moment.

And then.

"Damn it." The first guard exhaled as he settled into his expected pose—his concealing, iron armour clanking as he shifted. Seconds passed, and the breeze blew as they stood there. Once again, for another day… nothing was happening. And then. "But I'm not wrong, am I? We're not what we signed up to be."

The second guard grunted. "Everyone has to start from somewhere."

"Pfft! No way, dude." The first guard scanned the scenery ahead, still the vast, barren land of cold grass—a hill in the distance with deteriorating trees. "That academy proved that we don't have what it takes even to be a lowly guard. We're just fooling everyone with this."

The second guard took a couple of seconds to respond. "My friends and family were proud once I got in. They no longer treat me like a low-life."

"And? Is approval all that you want?"

"I no longer feel like a failure to them now," the second guard answered as they stood on opposing sides of the path leading into the village behind them. There was a wooden fence that covered most of it. "I sort of feel like my own person now. They treat me like one."

"Yeah—because they think you honestly made the guard." The first guard breathed heavy enough to hear it through his helmet. "But you're still the same old failure underneath it. All you're doing now is hiding it from them."

"And is that so bad?" asked the second guard. "Besides. You speak as if you're better than this."

"Not better, just… I dunno." The first guard shook his head and lowered the bottom of his spear against the ground. He was almost tempted to lean into it. "Steinith always berates us by saying that he'll get our deal annulled and we'll be kicked out of the guard. Makes it out to be a bad thing. But what are we really doing when you think about it?"

"Standing at random villages and pretending like we're capable of defending it."

"Exactly—it sucks." The first guard did lean into his spear—but just a bit. "Like, Steinith's biggest threat is that we won't be allowed to do this anymore? Why do I care?" The first guard gave a long sigh. "I'm pretty sure I can find as terrible of a job back home, and, at the very least, I'll be home when I do it." He shrugged. "Getting fired no longer seems as scary as it did a time ago."

"And so what?" the second guard pressed. "You're just going to get us both in trouble because you couldn't be bothered if we get fired?"

"What? No." The first guard leaned off his pole and took a proper stance, looking at the second guard. "I wouldn't sabotage your position in all of this." He went back to staring ahead—once again at nothing. "I've got no problem doing this for a little bit longer until we're sent home." He paused. "Just that… maybe you should keep an open mind for finding work elsewhere."

Another breeze blew past.

"Noted," said the second guard.

Then, the two were left to stand there for a time, seeing nothing ahead and very little happening behind. One of the guards turned to glance at the village, seeing a horse pulling a cart as a family walked around it. The second guard watched them for a bit before facing forward again.

"Looks like another one's leaving," the second guard said.

"Who can blame them?" asked the first.

They were left to stand there without anything to do.

"Should we… split up and stroll the perimeter?" the second guard asked while turning to the first. "Check out the land, the area, see if there's any changes to the ground or the people?"

The first guard faced the second guard. "Is that your way of saying you're bored too?"

"Ensuring the area is safe and unchanged is part of our duties." The second tried to make himself seem bigger and more informed than he really was. "We probably should be keeping an eye out for all the tiny things that might actually be something."

"You mean that something might be hiding in all this untouched, visible grass?" the first guard asked. His gaze swept around the area, nodded, and returned to the second guard. "Did my scan and my stroll. Still no changes. Just like how it was yesterday—and the week before that."

"Wait… what is that?"

The first guard shook his head. "What is what?"

"What do you mean 'what is what'?" The second guard shook the first and directed him forward. "You were literally just looking in that direction a second ago!" They both pointed at the strange blond-and-grey-haired man with a cane heading their way. "Him! Someone is coming toward the village!"

The second guard shook his head as his helmet shuffled around. "Man. Maybe you are right. Maybe you shouldn't be a guard after all."

"Enough of that," the first guard shut down. "We got someone coming here. What do we do?"

"What are we supposed to do?"

"Tag along with Steinith and notify him if anything is amiss."

"Should we tell him that a stranger is coming to the village?"

“…”

"Well?"

"I… don't… know." The first guard struggled and exhaled. "I mean… it just feels like… he's going to yell if we just tell them some guy was coming toward the village."

"Then… what are we supposed to do?"

"What are guards supposed to do?"

"Guard."

"Which means?"

"Which means… make sure the guy isn't a threat… before allowing him into the village?"

"Ah. It is a public village. Suppose it's natural for strangers to sometimes appear here."

"Yeah, but… where did he come from? Couldn't be the woods."

"Maybe he took the long way around."

"Doesn't he look a bit different from normal folk?"

"Y'know—I was just about to say something about that."

"And why is he carrying so little? He couldn't have been travelling very far."

"He made it here somehow—best not to underestimate him."

"So what should we do?"

"What we always do." The first guard assumed proper form while pushing out his chest and straightening his back a little too much. "Act like we're normal guards and hope they buy it."

"You ready for this?"

"Nothing to it—just act natural."

And like that, the guards were ready to receive the visitor.