Casual Talk

The sky is thundering, and the sun sets lower under the ocean. The ship is absent of light, "it is all very deafening. I can feel my feet being sweeped below me, by a strong wind I cannot balance."

"Why are you talking like that? What are you even writing, it's your first day of work, stop talking like you're about to die, this is all apart of the journey."

"I wish not to see that woman again, her presence terrifies me."

"Oh come on, it's just your grandmother. What could be so bad?"

An object studs on the floor behind them. "What was that?"

"I pray that it will not be that which I care about most on this journey towards my ultimate demise." The burly man carelessly walked to the sound, "weird, there's nothing here, at least I can't see anything."

"Also, your grandmother is kind, what do you mean she'll be your ultimate demise?" A skinny figure shudders behind his arms in a corner, "her actions are... frightening."

"She gave me soup and a warm bath, what could be so scary..."

A shadow dashes past them both in the blink of an eye, "did you feel the wind just like, whoosh?"

"What is 'whoosh' the action of wind quickly flying by is not one I am all too familiar with."

"You're really making me confused man, are you talking about the fact that you live in a secluded place in the mountains, and because there's a large mountain that covers the entire village, there's not much wind flying around...?"

"It's a more complicated way of explaining things, but yes."

"Where did you even learn how to talk like this..."

"It is a long story that I wish not to tell, for I am currently tired. But I shall tell it to you, should you wish for me to proceed, I owe an explanation to you after all."

"Uh... sure...?"

A secluded village deep in the largest mountain range of Tira, something that you wouldn't ever see if you only stayed near the border. It's wide fields and meticulous care from the people to the land is not something that the border dwellers share in common. They are a more rowdy bunch.

Inside the surrounding nearby the mountains, are several abodes as well as a well developed city, though it is not often seen as such, because our services and facilities are far from ideal to one who seeks entertainment.

We merely need food, water, and a place to live. So we care for the lands carefully, tending to our fields everyday was a common chore, even to those younger of age.

The elders would often visit these fields, and give us advice on how to improve our craft, as well as how to take better care of our lands for more prosperous growth. One day, an old lady arrived at my front door, seeking my father. And he seemed to happily oblige.

I wish I could forget what happened after that; my father came into my room with a wide smile, reminiscent of the smile he had when he'd won a competition, though it was definitely rather rowdy, I still remember those people, happily stuffing as much food as they could, into their mouths.

"Yet here I am right now, alone and on a boat leading towards my ultimate demise, I haven't eaten for days."

"Only a few days? You look like a skeleton, you get skinny real quick... wait, I asked you why you talk like this!"

"Relax Arnold." A vein started popping in 'Arnold's' face.

"I told you my name's Arata! A-RA-TA, do you understand?!"

"I'm afraid I am too tired to listen to your rambling, Arnold."

"Fine... just call me whatever you want. I'm used to it now..." he loudly sighed and relaxed his body. "Continue."

"Thank you for your cooperation Arnold."

My father came into my room, his smile was devious. He said to me, 'son you've been chosen for practice!' And my face was very confused, I didn't know what 'practice' he was referring to. Practice to take care of the land? Practice my swordsmanship? I did not have a clue.

But then most shocking of all, he said this in return, "no silly, remember the thing I talked to you about?" I thought back to a week ago, I was eating at the table when my father spoke to me. He talked loudly, a habit that came from his friends. "HEY SON!" He crossed his arms violently.

I nearly choked on my food, "DO YOU WANT TO GO THE THE FESTIVAL? THERE'LL BE A SELECTION SOON." I scolded him for yelling, and asked about the selection. But then he'd already ran off, thinking that I'd accepted his invitation by showing interest with my question.

And now, this old lady told me that she was my grandmother, and that she would train me to speak better, and to practice my manners as well as posture. I asked, "what about working in the field, taking care of the land?"

"Don't worry about that, the others can handle it without you. I've instructed our strongest to go over." She ordered me to follow her into the city hall. A place I now fear, everyday... she'd constantly hit me over the head whenever I even made even the smallest of mistakes. She'd force me to stand up straight for several hours on end without food. And calling it all 'training'

At least when that madman arrived, it created an opening for me to escape, but thinking back on it. That was the probably the right decision, no matter what anyone tells me, I will not think otherwise. I rather freedom over safety and solitary confinement."

"You said something about swordsmanship, did you practice the sword?"

"I did, but I no longer do, I only travel around other nations, in search of perhaps a wife, a home, a good job, and a few friends I can drink with."

"Sit with me Arnold, we can talk about your past."

"Uh... I was raised by a fisherman, and that's it..."

"Surely there's more? Do entertain me, I wish not to die in silence."

"I already told you, you're not going to die..." he sighed again, before sitting beside the skinny man. "Fine, of course there's more to the story, but I doubt it'll be interesting."