'A journey of the heart is the noblest of journeys.' The
old storyteller prattled, while the young children, and even some adults surrounded him. 'It is not often one makes a trip
led solely by the love of another. But it most certainly does happen. Take young Thalian, who grew to love the girl he knew
since childhood, they were to be married, but he was sent off to war. He came back just to be with her. Then theres Prince
Corbius, who conquered an entire nation to retrieve his stolen bride.
'But this isnt the tale about either of them. It is about an old knight. But he wasnt always an old man. He once was
an up-and-coming young knight of the Order, with the favor of the king. He won all his jousts, and never lost a sparring match.
'Still he longed for more. His best friend had a lovely sister, and they quickly fell in love, though both were hesitant
to admit it. The young knight was becoming so popular, he was granted a chance to spar in front of the king.
'But one night, after mild drinking with his friend, on a stormy night, there appeared a thief. That thief cut down
all guards who pursued him. This young knight saw the perfect blade that night. The thief escaped, and the young man was stunned.
'He declined the audience with the king. He told the woman he had fallen in love with he was leaving in search of the
perfect blade. She told him she would wait, everyday, for his return under the tree they had first met. The knight bade her
farewell.
'He traveled the country, that young knight, for several years. He killed a great many men, in search of the perfect
blade. But after many years, he had given up hope in the search for it, and just killed people for spot.
'Then, upon entering a small fishing village, a thief was escaping on a horse. He looked the man in the eyes, and found
it to be the very man he had been searching for.
'The knight drew his blade, and stared the thief down. The thief rushed him, and the knight easily killed him. He had
found the perfect, had in fact, far surpassed it.
'But a terrible weight suddenly fell on his shoulders. There never had been a perfect blade. Killing was the end-result
in the blade, and taking of life could never be perfect.
'The weight of his sins now rested heavily on his soul. The many nameless and faceless people he had slaughtered, haunted
his thoughts. He could never justify the dead with atonement.
'It had been 21 years since he left home, but he returned. The tree where he first met his love was still standing,
and he gratefully accepted its shade.
'She came up to him, then, in all her young beauty. She smiled, and he hugged her. But she disappeared; it had been
nothing but a dream.
'A middle-aged farmer came walking by at this time. He looked upon the knight and remarked, I once knew a man who sat
in that same position, under that very tree. It turned out to be the knights old friend, but the knight said nothing of this.
'Instead he asked, 'Where did your friend go?' And the fisher answered, 'He left a long time ago on a journey. He left
behind his love, who, for 20 years, waited under this tree for his to return, everyday.'
'The knight looked up, hopefully, and asked, 'and what happened to his love, if I might ask?' As to which the fisher
replied, 'she died last year.' The knight nodded, and bade the fisher farewell.
'His journey for power ended many lives, and every single one rest heavy on his soul, but none more so, than the young
lady he left behind. She died hoping for his return, but never got to see it.
The storyteller stopped, and leaned against the wall completely. 'Dont ever forget the ones you love. You just dont
know what you could be missing without them by your side.' The old man stood up shakily, and the crowd of listeners quickly
dispersed.
'That story gets sadder with each of his tellings, I swear.' One of the young adults said, leaning over to his friend.
'Yeah, almost makes ya think hes telling his own life story.'
'Perhaps he was, my friend, perhaps he was.' The other youth remarked, and both went off on their way.
