There are two ways to travel in this world. Taking or not the path. Paths are safer when it comes to monsters, as they avoid the monsters’ routes, but it’s common to find bandits and thugs. Going into the wild takes more time, and it’s more dangerous, but if you’re smart enough, you can avoid the monsters.
As someone who doesn’t like to fight, either choice is terrible. Why? ‘Cause I can’t use sex to avoid a fight. The best option is to take the path, but my master, Robert, took me for a trip when I was sixteen. That was one of the worst experiences in my life. Each time a thug demanded a quota to let us pass, my master would refuse. It was fight after fight. Then some bandits demanded him to hand me over. I begged him to stop and said I didn’t mind going with them, but he murdered them.
Ugh. I still get sick remembering it.
So what did I learn? Paths are death. Although he told me he had to kill them because he was too old. In his prime, he could have defeated them without killing them. That was the art of the saber, he told me.
I never reached his level and stopped training so hard after he died, so it’s impossible for me to not kill them. Talking may seem like a solution, we’re humans, comrades, it should be possible. Unfortunately, that’s not the case.
So here I am, walking through the woods.
I like the smell of wet dirt, so it’s a pleasure to walk in this difficult terrain. Though I’m of the opinion that once you’ve seen a forest, you’ve seen all of them. Its scenery is green and brown, and I’m not a fan. But the sound of leaves being caressed by the wind is satisfying. I enjoy the sounds of the forest and its smell.
Truth be told, this is my fancy way of saying I’m lost. This damn place is the same everywhere I look. So I guide myself using my nose and ears.
Where I was heading to? Nowhere in particular. Adventurers are unnecessary nowadays. The army is better than us at monster extermination and the security force excels at keeping public order. And because we train to fight against monsters, the other two can beat us easily. Even if the common folk see adventurers becoming criminals as a terrible threat, they’re nothing against the might of the security force.
Hahaha. It’s funny how I’m an unnecessary individual with an unwanted profession.
My plan is to continue with my old lifestyle. Do nothing aside from having sex. But I want a gentle partner, someone interested in marrying me. In that case, I’ll do my best to become a splendid wife. If it isn’t possible, that’s fine too, it’s fine if everyone loves me.
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I hear water running. I walk for some minutes till I find a stream.
I should eat while I can. I don’t want to be hungry while running away from a monster.
I pick some sticks and cut some branches to make a fire, then rip bark from a fallen tree. With my boot, I clean the terrain. I take no time to start the fire. My adoptive father insisted on the beauty and resemblance of it with the art of the saber. The tinder is the basic physical training, the sticks and branches are the technique training, the spark that ignites it is the passion, and the flame is the manifestation of the art. He told me to observe the flame and fight like that. I had to be a flickering flame, evasive and fast enough to cut my target effortlessly. He thought saber was the definite fighting technique, ‘cause he saw it as an eternal flame as long as you kept training; putting wood in it.
I think he was absolutely right, and that’s why I refused to train and gave him a lot of trouble. Killing is so disgusting. Why would anyone do that?
On that topic, I never hunt. I eat animals when I’m not the one killing them, but if I have to, I prefer to not eat. That’s why I’m cooking some delicious mushrooms. I stab them with a branch I previously removed the bark from and put them close to the fire. The mushrooms let out a deep aroma like humid soil, just like the forest but without the smell of plants.
I have some berries to accompany the mushrooms, but I don’t like the combination of flavors, so I save them for later. I fill my canteen and rest for a while.
I continue my journey to who knows where until the afternoon. Once the sun leaves, I’ll have just some minutes of light bright enough to see what I’m doing. I search my surroundings for a resting place. I see some giant rocks on a slope. There’s a gap between them big enough for my head, so I don’t have to worry about spiders or snakes. I grab rocks and branches to cover the gap and make a fire.
I hug myself and close my eyes. Even if there’s some light and looking at the sky at this hour is amazing, I need to sleep as much as I can ‘cause I’ll have to wake in the middle of the night to keep the fire going.
…
“Ahh!”
Ugh. What a terrible nightmare.
Most of my dreams are nightmares. I’m used to it. But there are nightmares, and there are visions of the worst things the abyss offers. This one was extremely twisted and vicious.
Should I share it? I don’t want other people to have it, so I’ll say the least terrible thing. Babies were eating me.
Now I have that gory scene in my mind. Ugh. It makes me dizzy.
I stare at the moon to calm myself.
I find the moon beautiful, its imperfect shape is charming. I feel a deep connection to it. Our ancestors say the Goddess Hala protected the earth from an attack of God Xiuh by transforming into the moon. But the attack damaged her so much, she lost a quarter of herself and became unable to transform back. We can see the debris from its missing part from here. I love it and feel as if we’re similar. I’m trapped into someone I’m not.
It’s a shame that beautiful story is vanishing from the world. Now we know Gods don’t exist. But even if they don’t, I feel respect and admiration for Hala, along with sympathy. If she exists, maybe we could be friends.