You’ve just arrived in a swampy, dim town. As you look around, your gaze is met with shacks and cabins. It smells of rotted wood and wet moss. You duck and step into a tattered tent, illuminated by a series of candles suspended in the air. At the back of the tent, an old hag raises her head, “What brings you to this dingy town? she begins, then pauses to study your face—”Ah, it’s you. I’ve been expecting you. Sit,” she gestures at a cushion, “Tell me your story.”
I was confused at how she knew I would be coming. But she obviously is a women of great wisdom, as anyone as old as her must be, so I begin to recount my tale.
"My story begins in far away place, of which many have probably never heard of. I was young, and seeking to gain my fortune. I bought a ship from the nearest harbor, got a crew, and set sail to travel across the sea. A couple of months into my voyage, a storm came, with waves crashing against our ship. We were going to go under if we did not do something. The storm lasted throughout the night, and the crew worked desperately to keep the ship above water. We kept the ship above the water for quite a long time, before some crew members decided they didn't want to drown, and started a fire. The fire quickly spread throughout the ship. Not long after someone saw land. People were trying to put out the fire, and I was on deck looking over railing when my toga caught on fire. I tried putting it out, but I couldn't, and had to rip the toga off of myself. I looked over the railing just in time to see the ship crash into the shore. I went flying over the railing, hitting my head and getting knocked out. when I awoke, I found the ship burned out and my entire crew dead.
I pause, before continuing my story. "The water was calm, and I looked into it, and saw in my reflection this red streak in my hair" I say pointing at red in my hair. "In my religion from my home, it is believed that this streak is given to those who have died and come back. Those few are able to commune with the dead, and become a sacred part of the community, helping those who grieve, and sending messages from the dead. It is a rare and sacred role, which I have been given."
I take a breath before running my hands through my hair and continuing my tale. "At first I thought the read was blood, and tried washing it out. As a washed handful after handful of water through my hair and it didn't wash away, I understood what had happened. I wanted to stay and ponder why I was given this duty, but I knew that I had to continue on. After walking for what seemed like days, even though it was probably only a few hours, I made it to a village. I walked through the village nice enough to let me stay with them. As he took me to his house, I looked around the village, noticing that it's citizens were quite wealthy. My host took me to his house, and he showed my to my room. As I walked into the room, I was amazed. It's bed was big, and wash decorated with lavish decorations. The owner told me not to mess with his storage, and I followed his wishes, at least at first. That night I slept soundly, and when I woke up, I went to the village bath house, and bathed. When I was finished, I walked through town, eventually finding a tavern. I went to the bar and grabbed a morning drink, and was drinking it as a villager walked into the bar and sat next to me. After a bit of silence, we started talking to each other and eventually I learned that some of the townsfolk and their valuables have been going missing. 'Some believe that a bandit did it, and some believe that it was one of our very own who's been doing it' I was intrigued by this, but I had drunk my fill and headed to the house I was staying at. The host had said I could stay as long as I wanted, so I was going to stay for several days and enjoy his hospitality. I got back to the house, but the host was nowhere to be seen. I went to my room, but I was drunk, and tripped and fell on to a chest knocking it over. Out came a sword, which looked like it had been infused with magic, and many many jewels. I looked at the sword, and jewels amazed at how wealthy my host was. But as looked at the sword, I noticed a name on the handle, which made me freeze. On the handle were the words: 'Property of Ellen'. The man in the bar had told me this was the name of one of the men who had disappeared, and along with him, his sword had also disappeared. That meant that the thief must have been my host. Suddenly I heard a voice from behind me: 'You shouldn't have touched that chest'. The host had returned, and found me looking at the sword. I turned around, and noticed the man holding a sword, crafted expertly. I picked up the sword from the pile, and tried to hold it in a battle stance. I have never fought before, as my people were peaceful. The man closed in on me and my desperate attempt to protect myself showed to be frugal."
"He stabbed in me in the chest with his sword" I say as I lift my shirt, showing my chest to show the fresh wound. "The pain was unbearable, and I quickly sliced at him with my sword, before dropping it and running out of town. I continued running for a long way, before I felt comfortable enough to stop running. My wound had spilled a lot of blood, but luckily had learned the basics of how to bandage a wound, and I was able to stop the bleeding. I rested before continuing to get as far away from the village as I could. Eventually I came here, and I just want to find a place to settle down. My spirit of adventure is low, and I don't want to fight. Maybe I could write literature, or become a historian."
I stand up and begin to leave, before turning around and saying to the hag "Ma'a salama, As-salamu alaykum" and walked out.
