"Come on Ranghild, you have to take me on an adventure," Lyting had been bothering me about traveling for the past week.
"I need to stop telling you old wives tales," I replied. "Trust me, this life is all the adventure you need."
"Please, it'll be fun."
"It'd be more fun if you'd go and do your chores before I tell your mother you've been lounging about."
"Oh, you're no fun," he mocked. I refused give him the satisfaction of confirming or denying his accusation and instead chose the more nobel route of shooing him out the front door with my broom.
Life has been peaceful as of late save for Lyting's insistings (such as the one I have described above). I wish to stay here forever. The community has been friendly toward me despite my rather short residence. As I have written before, there is some suspicions and rumors directed at me, but that is to be expected. I will admit that I have been amused by the rumors. Some are convinced that I am Elli, but I don't think I look that old. If I were younger five hundred seasons, I'd be insulted, but I'm long past worrying about my looks.
I'll have to quit telling Lyting my stories. He's a good lad, and I'd hate to send him on a fool's errand for an adventure. His mother would never forgive me. I suppose I may scare him into seclusion through my more harrowing tales. I'll have to look through some of my earlier journals.
YOU ARE READING
Accounts of History from the Immortal Traveler
Historical Fiction"Living forever, to say the least, gets complicated. While often romanticized in today's media as a miraculous gift. Even I don't know if that's the case, and I've been here for quite a while." That was the first line in a journal documenting the dr...
