RIP Story : May 27th, 2024

The mystery showed himself on the edge of the village. He laid his weapons on the ground and let the townsfolk inspect all his worldly possessions. He didn’t say why he came to the village, he was there. He could hunt, he would lend a helping hand and he stayed in barns helping the families who gave him the space.

“The eyes boy, look at his eyes,” a father said to his son. A group of men repaired a fence and the visitor walked over to join them. “Those eyes have seen a lot. They are cold. They hold something back,” the father continued as he dropped a hammer onto the post his son heldverticallyl.

“He is here to help us, Daddy; how do you know all that?” the son asked. The man was too close for the father to answer without their conversation being given away. “Shush, later,” the father said.

Without hesitation, the boy spoke up. “My father says you’ve seen a lot and that you’re hiding something.”

“Thanial!” the father protested. “I’m sorry, sir, I meant no harm. I was telling my son you look like you’re hiding a painful past. That’s all. It is rude to talk about people like that. Please accept my apologies.”

The man stopped in his path and looked over both of them. His expression was calm, and his body was relaxed. He looked at the father, tilted his head slightly and blinked slowly. “Your father is an observant man. Thank you both for keeping an eye out for me.” He said nothing more, grabbed one of the shovels and started digging the next post hole.

The man said nothing more for the rest of the sun-filled day. One more day of work and the fence, crashed through by started cows, would be good as new. The farmer brought the group wine from his home and the group sat while the last of the Sun’s warmth relaxed their worked shoulders. The son approached the man and said, “I don’t know your name, you’ve been here so long, what is your name?”

“My name is. Well, my name is not important. Your father was right when he said I was hiding something. Maybe one day I will tell you, and anyone else who would like to know. I was once an adventurer. I’ve seen a lot, and now, I am searching for my last adventure. That adventure starts with my name. i hope to find it here, with you fine folk.” The faces drinking their wine seemed to understand. No one moved or shifted and the father didn’t ask the boy to leave him alone. No one asked him anything else related to his life before he arrived in the village.

“Maybe after we finish with harvest, we can get started on a home for you?” the farmer said.

“That would be lovely, thank you. Cheers to you all.”

Thanks for reading, see you tomorrow.

EPILOGUE: This was a tough one. How do you not write a Jon Snow copy cat story with this image? I tried writing this three times yesterday. I had a boy leaving town to adventure. I had a knight lose his standing and he turned into an adventurer and I had a ranger trying to escape from a land he was trapped by a large army. I am getting a feel for how to write a character and leave room for the audience to build their own myths. I’ve no idea if it works. It feels like it works, but I’m not the ultimate judge.