MERCHANT ADVENTURER

Illness

After closing my eyes, I thought about my current predicament. Would Jonas and Enola reconcile? If not, it would surely bring trouble to the group. Not to mention, their fight made me realize just how terrible I was with these types of situations. I needed to be more like Garlan and find a way to reach others, to help them resolve conflicts.

In the mercantile industry, I would be bartering and resolving conflicts all the time. If I didn't know how to resolve conflict well, it would mean my life as a merchant would utterly fail.

Speaking of Garlan, he proved himself to be someone valuable. It was worth it to keep him besides me. Apart from teaching me combat skills, he could also impart his knowledge of traveling the world to me.

Then there was also the issue with Midas. She still hadn't yet returned. Had she abandoned me? Or did she forget that she was tasked to be my fortune angel. And what was her relationship with Septimus? I realized I couldn't simply believe in someone because they appear to be good. Like when I first met Midas, I was in a desperate situation. So, I grasped at any straw that came my way. I accepted her at face value without questioning her stated motive. But rethinking the situation, it seemed rather strange and fantastical to believe.

I know this adage is trite, but if something is too good to be true, it probably is. Now that I'm no longer in a tight situation, I can take a step back to reevaluate everything that happened with Midas. Is she really an angel? Determined not to be made into another scapegoat, or to be used by someone else, I vowed to never be naïve again. If I continued to trust others blindly, I would be skinned alive without knowing the reason why.

In my dreams, I saw all kinds of things swirling together. It seemed I was remembering a past life? Maybe? But how could this be possible? Or was it another life? Did I live somewhere else before coming here?

In that life, I had a family who loved me. My father was a career man, working hard to support our family of three. My mother was a housewife. Is this real or a figment of my feverish imagination? It felt nice to have familial love. Unlike the family who indentured me to the rich merchant family and never contacted me again. My role in this family was focused on studying to enter a good university. Then tragedy struck me; and I died while saving someone else's life. Only this part of the dream was somewhat blurry and hard to distinguish.

Mother found me lying on the pavement, bleeding out. She hunched over me and her tears fell upon me, like rain sprinkling upon the dry earth.