Tale 99- The Child of Destiny

 The sea breeze pulled at the cloak of the Traveler, who breathed in the fresh air. The ocean air was always clean, and breathing it reminded her just how far she’d come. She’d regained the love of her family, even their ghosts had told her so, and reunited with the brother she’d denied for so long. Despite that, one hole in her heart still remained, and that was the hole left by Sarafelle’s death. Her unfinished vow would never be able to be spoken, as the girl was unable to tell her how much she loved her, but it seemed fate was cruel to them, keeping them apart no matter how hard they tried. She looked over at the dock, where a lone person was fishing, the Traveler noticing they were holding a small, childish rod. Unlike last time, no other rod lay nearby, so the Traveler just sat near the person, who was wearing a large hat and thus had indiscernible features. Nonetheless, the person gave a knowing smile, offering to tell a story that their father had told them, the tale of ‘the Child of Destiny’

‘Once, there lived a young boy, a boy who heard songs on the winds that nobody else could hear, and who found the magic in the most mundane of moments in ways that nobody else could. The boy saw sparkles of light in the darkest moment, found beauty even in moments of brutality, and brightness even in the darkness of one’s soul. Despite this, he was claimed to be the child of destiny, a child who would fall victim to the darkness of the world, losing all innocence and hope of survival. But, the boy defied fate. Taking it unto himself, he bore his load and walked the lengths necessary to evade fate, toiling and toiling each and every day to keep a lightness about him, until finally, the child of destiny was free to choose his own, whatever it may be.’

The person smiled as the Traveler wrote, before watching as she closed the book and turning back to fishing. Reeling in their rod, they turned to face the Traveler properly, taking off their hat and revealing…Sarafelle. In shock, the Traveler nearly jumped back, but her friend just smiled, reaching out to touch her face. That glimmer of corporeal form…Sara’s ghost smiled, tracing a gentle hand down the Traveler’s scar. “My love, you’re almost free.” she whispered, the Traveler nodding as tears came to her eyes. Sara was in one piece, and she looked relatively peaceful considering what had happened, and her eyes were full of that love the Traveler had so yearned for, even in secret. Summoning her courage, she looked deep into Sarafelle’s eyes, and whispered a simple truth. “I love you, Sarafelle.” The words seemed to echo through the air like wedding bells, Sarafelle giving a sweet smile. “I always knew. Thank you for everything…and I love you too.” Sara replied, before reaching out to touch the Traveler’s cheek one final time, disappearing and passing on peacefully, the Traveler finally bidding her goodbye. And that was the final time the Traveler ever saw a ghost. As acceptance settled in her heart, she stared out over the horizon, where a sunset was taking place. Stretching out her palm, she reached for the rays, reaching for freedom, which was only one final tale away. And she already knew what tale to write. So as darkness fell, she found a clearing lit by fireflies, and sat on a rock. It was time.