Walking down the road, I saw something strange.


    A stranger.


    A stranger?!


    But, there never comes strangers here. Rachels dad said that we’re too far away from any nearby cities or villages. I looked around, seeing that no adults had yet spotted the stranger in our village. So I moved closer, inspecting the strange stranger. Seeing an old man, with strands of grey spread around a lush hair, wearing a long brown cloak that reached down to his knees, looking both tattered and clean. A strange blend. In the middle of the cloak there was a circular painting, painted in deep red and purple. Engulfing an illustration of a silver sword that shone with a golden light and had something that resembled blue blood dripping from it.


    It was the length of the old man’s upper body, but no wider than a wrist.


    The blade was sheathed in a rusted metal scabbard. A black rounded top with small markings, unreadable by all the rust.


    The guard was plain and flat, made entirely of iron with nothing distinguishing it from any other guard. And similar to the scabbard, it was entirely rusted.


    The hilt was wrapped in cloth, the only part that seemed reasonably well kept, clean even.


    The pommel had a diamond shape, rusted like everything on the blade, but holding an emblem. Something small, round and sparkling.


    If I were any closer, I would have seen a small hollowed out hole, containing a round sphere that seemed to hover inside the pommel. A round marble of sorts, painted in green and blue with dots of whites.


    fishy, and I’m not talking about the fish that we usually eat. I’m talking about the fishy that Uncle Max tells us means that something is fishy.


    fishy. But in the best kind of way, the tasty fish kind of way. You know, those wrapped in the crunchy stuff. Yummy.


    Oh little sapling boy, wanting to grow oh so high, high too the sky


    Seeking great heights, up to the grown tree, where his spirit was free.


    Little boy, I see you, I feel you


    How far you have come, such things you’ve seen and overcome


    Oh little boy,


    My little acorn, my little seed


    The world is large and cruel, no place for saplings such as you


    Oh little sapling boy


    Oh I wish I hadn’t


    Oh I wish


    It was the tree.


    The silence was deafening.