Joan

Chapter VIII

"Do you have any idea what you're going to accomplish by going through with this?"

Marching onward, I keep a steady pace, not bothering to adjust for the much slower Oslen who's supposed to be my guide but currently doing a horrid job.

In response to his question, I give a confident shake of the head. "Nope, but I don't need plans or outlines or any of that crap."

"You don't need a plan?" He questions cynically.

"I'm sure it'd be helpful but I'm not dying for one."

He finally strides alongside me, giving me a doubtful expression.

"So, say you find the castle and retrieve the sword, then what?"

Waging my finger at him, I 'tsk' him.

"And that's your problem, always trying to get ahead of yourself. One step at a time."

"No, that's your problem. It's called being prepared."

Rolling my eyes, I groan, "You sound like my parents and teachers and coach and- actually, you sound like everybody in my freakin' life."

"Well, perhaps, maybe they're onto something."

"Well, duh, of course they are," I state with obviousness. "I just don't function that way."

The radiation of judgment beams from him.

"I haven't known you for too long, so pardon me saying this prematurely but you're too much of an odd ass."

That actually makes me laugh as hard as I did the first time we interacted with each other. I actually really like this guy- probably even more than his sister, though she's a racket too- if only for the comments and faces he makes.

"You're definitely on the nose about me," A few strangled chuckles slip out. "You're good at figuring people out in a short amount of time."

"I'll accept that as a compliment," He muttered, unsure of how to take me.

My mood is improved since leaving the house and traveling along the road for a while. Oslen always does something cute- that's never meant to be endearingly cute- causing a smile to form on my face.

Keeping true to his commitment, he takes me to the edge of his village leading onto the main road. We both pause, staring down the infinite stretch of dusty road that will lead me to my destiny.

Of course, I'm the first to wrap this up, startling him with a heavy-handed slap on his back.

"Welp," I take a refreshing breath. "It was something meeting you and getting to know your family."

Though casting me one more quick, frame-worthy face, he gives me an amiable nod.

"Likewise. It was a pleasure having you."

"Oh, don't lie, I was obnoxious at times."

"If that is what you wish to hear then sobeit, but I genuinely enjoyed your energy."

Aw, I've festered on him- like a boil.

Gripping the strap of my provisional bag, I keep my sights on the horizon- it's new, it's vast, and it's calling my name.

"See ya around." My usual parting words- whether they're true or not I always call it out to people I meet and get to know. I think deep down inside me there's this pitifully optimistic belief that I will see everyone I've met again (or it could that I secretly hate goodbyes).