And The Wish...

And the Wish is a Goal

"So, let me get this straight," I begin, my thumb and index on my forehead. "Lucien is not just a bad guy, but a villain? He's trying to renew the world by destroying it? Well, someone's impatient."

Great! Just great! Totally what I needed! Can today get any worse? I was already interrupted during tea and now there's a plot to blast the world into a perfect one? Didn't Theresa already say that it was already attempted? Why would you try again if it'll never work? Or is this the idea of a pure world? I think not.

"You are rather silly and childish for a one who shall save all of Albion," Theresa observes.

I pause at her words. Why would having a goal change me? It's not much responsibility on my part because if I fail, there will be no one to put the blame on me. And there would be no regrets on my part as well, a win-win situation. I guess you could say I'm a optimistic pessimist.

"Don't you know me well enough that I'll never be serious?" I counter with a laugh.

She doesn't laugh back, or even smile. She just shakes her head, obviously disappointed with my answer. "You said that you had grown up and learned responsibility as I had been discussing what you had done to the bandits."

"No. No, no, no, no, no. I said nothing," I correct her. "And you said thumbs up or down when talking about killing! How childish is that!"

"I know you're not one for speaking."

"But really? I could say 'yes' or 'no'."

Theresa is now obviously annoyed by me. How do I know? Well she's leaving actually. Not even saying goodbye. But I'm used to it. She would be gone for long periods of time without returning and never sending word if she was still kicking anything but the bucket. Actually she had left me for two years only to return right when Lance and I decided to go out of the camp for a month or two. She was so angry with me because apparently there was a rule that I couldn't leave the camp at all times. You'd think she was related to me or something from the way she treats me. Like an annoying aunt, she is!

"Bye," I call after her, limply waving. She turns around and waves back before she turns the corner. Wait, she never told me where she was going! Or how to keep in contact! She would at least tell me she was going away! I run up to where she turned and looked around.

She was nowhere to be found.

Great. Fantastic really. Just what I wanted. SHEESH.

Whatever. I'll worry about finding her later, I mean I've got the object to communicate with her through. But for now I'll need to get some money for supplies and whatnot.

Oh and that Hero in Oakfield. I need to remember to do that.... Why didn't she just teleport me there or something? Can she even do that? Or couldn't she do it herself? Well, it's on my shoulders now.

But like I said, I need to get some gold first. So I may go to the blacksmith, but I'm not that good with smithing. Perhaps I can sew clothes? Oh, no no no no no. Not happening. What else can I do? Well, I could fight. So become a mercenary? Hell no, they're just paid bandits, and I'm not one for listening to others' commands.

Sighing, I trudge to the blacksmith. Maybe I'll get better. No, no I won't. This is the last resort thanks to the damned inns having a bartender and a backup. How about if I just kill...nah, just kidding. I'll make do with what I've got without having someone else pay for it. But why the blacksmith?! It's so dang slow and boring and Lance says it makes your mind go numb from the ear splitting noise.

I actually wanted to learn the ways of the blacksmith when I first came to the camp. I knew it paid much money and people respected and feared you for it. I had asked Lance if he could teach me and well...I guess I forgot my previous condition. It's still hard to beileve it's gone after all these years. I guess seeing is believing, right?

Hahahahahahahaha. Oh, wait...it's actually not that funny. Never mind then. But anyways, I could never be able to do much without sight, smithing included.

"Hey, are you the blacksmith?" I ask as I step foot in the frontless store, spotting an extremely tan man. One with no shirt. Gross. Why do men go half naked? Women don't. Anyways, the man looks up at me and nods, walking around the counter and holding out a coal dusted hand out to me. I shake it with a smile and using my now black fingers, I streak them down my face, laughing harder. "Well, I'm actually here to help you with the smithing. I need the money to save the world apparently."

"You're that Hero, aren't ye?" he asks, doing the same to his face. "I heard ye Heroes are self-centered."

"Well I'm a fresh batch I guess."

"But your just one."

"For now."

He tosses me a pair of gloves and nods to the anvil where a hammer laid on top. "You seem timid and unsure of yourself. Try it. Hit it well and steady and you get the job."

I shakily grip the hammer and almost drop it. The man already knows that I don't know what I'm doing especially after I just tried to hold it by the loop instead of the handle. I let out a deep breath. I have to get this right, I just have too, I don't want to sew clothing for a living.

I lift the hammer over my head and pause as the blacksmith shakes his head. Lowering it and holding it in just one hand, balancing the thin piece of metal as much as I can. I release another breath and close my eyes, slamming the hammer down with as much force as I can.

And damn did it hurt!

Because I slammed the hammer onto my hand.

Well...at least I'm glad I couldn't try when I was younger.

IT HURTS!