"And then together, the warrior and his guide will leave the mountains to join the other heroes, the pair sporting a fiery passion to protect and save the innocent while punishing evildoers unlike anyone else…" An old man's raspy yet reassuring voice whispered to the girl sitting across from the table from him, who was watching him with wide crimson eyes full of wonder.

"And what next? Do they save the world? What do they do after that?" The young girl piped up, eagerly leaning forward in her chair to listen to the ending of the story.

"Ha ha ha…" The hermit clad in many layers of overlapping robes chuckled, smiling as he took another bite of nourishment from the plate before him on the table. His eyes narrowed ever so slightly as he looked up at the redhead, his lips curling in a thin, mischievous smirk as he savored the teenager's investment in his tale. "Who knows? The world hasn't ended yet, so perhaps they did save it. Then again, the guide is supposed to deliver this here mace to the warrior… so I suppose they haven't found each other yet."

The girl's gaze immediately darted down the massive gada leaning against the hermit's leg - it was the solitary weapon he carried with him for protection, and its size certainly did no injustice to the power held within. Despite the blunt and bludgeoning nature of the weapon, a series of identical etchings enamoured its striking end all around, though it was hard to make out what they said. It didn't take long for her to realize that if what he was alluding towards was true, he was supposed to be the guide the story had been about. "So you're looking for him? What's he supposed to look like? Where is he right now!?" Her curiosity drove more questions towards the hermit, who seemed quite content by the turn of events.

"Who, me? No… no." The hermit shook his head, his sunken cheeks all the more obvious signs of his aging body. "I'm far too frail to be doing things like that… besides, the guide is supposed to be a woman. A very special girl, indeed."

The girl's heart skipped a beat and she tapped her toes on the floor, making her chair creak as she leaned forward to put both elbows on the table. "What's she like then?" She asked, already envisioning what it would be like to be the heroine of his tale.

"The warrior's guide…" The robed figure scratched his chin, and for a few seconds it seemed as if he had somehow forgotten who he was looking for. "A paragon of bravery, honesty and resolute will. She's supposed to be strong, strong enough to be the warrior's heart. Someone who can see the light in anyone, and someone who fills everyone around her with hope for a better tomorrow…" he said, looking down at the girl across the table shrink with each quality he added onto the pedestal for her.

The redhead's gaze fell to the monotone brown of the table under her arms, feeling the weight of her quickly crushed dreams bring her back to her grounded life. "Right… she must be someone really special then…"

The sudden pressure of expectations on the girl's face wasn't lost on the hermit, but it was rather expected. "-but that's who she becomes at the end. I do remember the girl in the story having crimson hair and vibrant eyes just like yours, you know?"

"Really?" The girl looked up again, her brow slightly furrowed with hope. "So I could…-?" She began, but was incidentally interrupted by a similar, yet older tone from the other room.

"Clarisse, Papa is back! Go help him unload the produce, please!"

"Coming, Mama!" Clarisse replied, her eyes darting towards the direction of the voice before ratcheting back towards the hermit. "Sorry, I'll be back…"

"By all means." The old man shrugged, watching her steps reach the end of the dining hall before quickly putting in a word. "I'll be waiting at the edge of the town tonight."

Clarisse whipped her head back to glance at the hermit with a hopeful expression as she disappeared into the back of the house, bumping into an intricate braid of blonde hair.

"I heard a lot of chatter…" The older woman said as she felt her daughter inadvertently bump into her, choosing not to tear her eyes away from the vegetables she was chopping. "What were you talking about?"

"Nothing!" Clarisse mumbled, freezing in place as she collected her wits about herself. As excited as she was about the mere idea of going on a grand adventure, it was hardly something she was willing to bring up to her mother as she had done many times in the past.

The foolish attempt at de-escalation only raised more suspicion in her mother, who allowed her hands a moment of respite to glance at the redhead. She didn't say anything, but the air of concern inlaid in her eyes was a message which couldn't be easily ignored.

Clarisse didn't bother to meet her mother's gaze, the youngster was far too energetic to slow down and think about the implications of her actions. "I'll go help Papa." The redhead quickly slipped out of the kitchen, leaving her mother to worry for a few more seconds before she deigned herself to chop the vegetables into fine slices once more.

At the back of the house, Clarisse was lost in thought while she helped organize the day's harvest

into separate sacks and crates to be taken to the market the next day - Usually she would have been quite talkative, launching volley after volley of questions towards her father - only some of which would be met with answers - but that evening she had been awfully quiet.

Her mind was enraptured by the wandering hermit's story, similar to how a child would daydream about fairy tales - she couldn't help but envision what it would be like to be in a story like that, to go on a grand journey across Nabhon in search of a legendary warrior and save the world… the more she thought about it, the more she found herself getting lost in it, only physically present in the backyard while her mind traveled to faraway lands many hundreds of miles away… until her fantasies were interrupted by a familiar voice.

"Firefly? Are you good?" Her father asked, setting down another large sack of produce next to the sack she was organizing before ruffling her hair with a sharp exhale. There was a noticeable imbalance in his posture as caught his breath, with his weight mostly shifted to one leg.

"Y-yeah!" Clarisse shrugged and shook her head, picking up the pace on organizing the roots to hopefully hide that she had been acting on autopilot the entire evening. She was somewhat thankful that he had used her affectionate nickname, it served well to snap her back to reality.

"You've been awfully quiet today, you know?" The fiery haired man asked, exerting himself to bend down and help her in the organizing work. "Is there something you want to tell me?"

"It's not much- pshh." Clarisse tried to brush his concern away, slapping a melon to gauge its percussive response before picking it up with both hands to put away in its own crate.

"It can be anything." Her father asserted, placing a hand on her shoulder to gently halt her from picking up the next melon. "Just between us."

Looking up at the welcoming expression of her father, Clarisse couldn't help but feel a sense of bravery well up inside her as she resolved to speak her mind. "You've told me many stories about how you, Mama and Uncle Gerard used to go on adventures… I was just thinking if I could do something like that…"

The burly man's eyebrows raised and his lips parted slightly, partly in disbelief and partly in concern, in a way only a parent could react to bad news. "That was a different time, Clarisse. We don't need to risk ourselves like that anymore."

"Yeah, but-" The younger redhead began, though she could already sense that she had made a mistake, no matter how slight - the transition in her father's expression from who she knew as her trusted confidant to a protective parent was enough to tick her off on that. "What if I wanted to explore the world like you did?"

"We have a home, friends and plenty of farmland to take care of right here." Her father reacted with the confusion of a man who had long since lost the thrill of adventure in favor of the gifts of a slower, safer life. "If you really want to explore, we can go to the capital for the next harvest festival, all three of us. It'll be good!" He tried to reassure her with a pat to her shoulder.

Clarisse raised one foot to try and take a step back, knowing full well that what he meant would only end in the continuation of her sheltered, well-cared-for lifestyle where any danger was kept far away by virtue of the two guardian angels who lived with her - there was never any danger, never any fleeting sense of exhilaration or excitement, no vested accomplishments of her own… Her foot returned to its original resting position soon after the realization that what she wanted to run away from wasn't all that bad. She looked up at her father and the endless nights of bedtime stories she had heard from him flashed in front of her, reminding the eager redhead that those hardships were what made her life so carefree and secure at the moment.

Her father was patiently waiting for her response, his soft gaze coming to rest on his daughter's uncertain expression, proud even so. Still, the mere whisper of adventure had been enough to make Clarisse sick of the complacency which her life was rife with. "How am I going to become someone then?" She questioned with a curious peak in her tone, which caught the adventurer-turned farmer off guard. "All the stories you've told me, that's how you became such a special person. I want to be someone special too…" she continued, continuing along what now seemed to be her last foothold in their conversation.

The man's eyes lit up, thought it was hard to tell whether it was pride or amusement which made it so. "I remember that feeling too… but you're different - You're a good daughter, staying out of trouble, helping Mama in the house and me around it. That's more than we ever did for our families, and both she and I know it. You're special to us, Firefly." He pulled her into a warm hug, rubbing the back of her head affectionately.

Clarisse found herself helplessly trapped in his arms as she had many times before, not from force but from the sheer charisma and care that he exuded. Despite her disagreements, she could never want to pry himself away from him whenever he did that. There was only one difference this time - she had already made her decision. The conversation was only to seek his blessing if he wanted to support her. "Thanks, Papa…" she mumbled, holding her tongue so as to not give away her intentions by saying anything more.

. . .

The rest of the evening was spent walking on eggshells for Clarisse, each action deliberate to ensure that her plans didn't bleed out into the purview of her parents. Everything from dinner, cleaning up after and tucking herself into bed - everything had been the same as always had been and the way it was always expected to be in the near future for her.

Despite fully disappearing under her blankets, Clarisse remained awake into the late hours of twilight, her senses fully devoted to listening if her parents were asleep in the room set partially below hers. Only once she was sure that she could hear her father's faint snores did she dare to move an inch, slowly creeping out of her bed and carefully placing one foot after the other onto the floorboards beneath. Standing next to her bed without a sound, it seemed her work was cut out for her - The plan was to pack a bag with everything she would need for the trip, which mostly constituted clothes, and then leave the house without her parents noticing, that too in the dim moonlight as her only light source.

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The first hurdle presented itself as she took a step forward and heard the distinctive creak of one of the floorboards. It wasn't a particularly loud creak, something which no one would have noticed during the course of the day, but her predicament made her wince nevertheless. Clarisse moved slowly, dreading the sounds she would cause as she looked at her closed wardrobe and the bag she intended to take with her.

Every single step, hand wave and furniture article she employed would go on to let out various degrees of fleeting sounds which aggravated and terrified her. The toughest article was money - a rough pouch of coins she had been saving from her allowance in case of emergencies, and this was the first if she was ever going to face more. The loosely gathered coins in the pouch jingled at mere touch, threatening to wake her parents if fiddled around with too much. In her quiet panic, selecting clothes to pick up and whether she needed anything else quickly became a blur and she began stuffing whatever she could find off the top.

Only by the time the redhead had slipped out of her pajamas did she realize another horrifying piece of the puzzle - her boots were downstairs, next to the entrance and past the door of her parents' bedroom. Clarisse sat down on the edge of her bed, taking deep breaths to compose herself and think of a solution. Surely if she were to go downstairs the usual route, the stairs would give her away. Besides, she could at least walk discreetly in her socks, unlike the heavy boots which would immediately give away her position and undoubtedly put an end to her plans. This also kept leaving through the front door out of the question… The only real answer seemed to be to ditch footwear for now and let her socks face the brunt of the ground.

Confused, Clarisse simply sat there looking down at her packed knapsack, wondering how she was about to even leave. A few more minutes of relative silence passed where she changed into an attire more suited for the outdoors than her sleepwear, choosing to tackle each coming problem only when she couldn't avoid them. Unfortunately, the issue of an exit was still standing by the time she thought she was ready to leave, weighing her risks while basking in the moonlight.

Suddenly, it occurred to her that the moonlight was showing her the answer - the window! She clambered onto the bed and on her knees, pushing her face against the glass to make out what was on the bottom of the fall. There was no balcony connected to her room, nor did there seem to be anything but plain ground to cushion her landing. She took a gulp, looking back at the door to her room to confirm it was closed before slowly opening the window.

Before she could poke her head out to get a better view of what she was going to jump down on, a quick draft blew past and sent a chill across her face, a harsh reminder of the real world outside of her sheltered life so far. The draft also made her door rattle in its place, prompting the redhead to act quickly as she pushed her backpack over the windowsill. It landed with a light thump which made her pause to check if anything had changed with regards to her slumbering parents, but the lack of footsteps and presence of light snores assured her that she was still good to go.

Peeking out of the window at her fallen backpack and then back at her room, Clarisse felt a pang of hesitation. She was about to leave her room, her home, her parents, and everything else she had known her entire life… all for the musings of an old hermit offering her a chance at adventure. There was still a chance that nothing would change, that she could close the window and go to sleep, pretending that her bag would still be there when she woke up in the morning when she could retrieve it without arising many questions. She thought back to her father and their conversation, about how her mother relied on her to help in the house and how comfortable her life had been so far.

Then it hit her all at once - the dangerous combination of complacency and mediocrity. She could choose to remain in her room, and in doing so keep her life and all its safeties and comforts, but risk becoming complacent with her own mediocrity. Or, she could jump out and embrace the life of adventure, find who she really wanted to be, and maybe get to save the world in the process. Gathering her resolve, she held either side of the window with her hands and placed one foot on the sill, whispering a last goodbye before she jumped.

"Mama and Papa, I'll see you when the world is saved."

The landing was rough on the girl's legs, but not as rough as running along the road with the knapsack slung to her side. Her socks provided minimal protection, but shock and adrenalin made up for it to suppress the discomfort as she recalled where the hermit had said he would be. "Edge of the town…. Edge?" Clarisse repeated to herself, her words disappearing into the cool breeze as she realized she had no clue which side of town he had meant and that she was heading towards one side based on pure guesswork.

Following the hermit's cryptic directions across the town and checking every location in sequence, a sudden feeling of fear and unfamiliarity hit her - Streets she would've known well in daytime seemed suspicious, the occasional lit lamp made her cautious. The soft patters of a cat's paws along the cobbled path, the barking of a stray dog from the street nearby, they irked her more than she would've liked. Perhaps it was just the uncomfortable feeling of walking on the road without her boots on, or the uncertainty of where she was going, but there was a sinking feeling in her heart as she finally spotted the silhouette of the hermit ahead of her.

Clarisse jogged up to the spindly man who seemed to be carrying his massive gada with little to no effort, finally taking a moment to catch her breath and adjust the way her knapsack was slung across her shoulder. "You didn't tell me which edge of town…" she pouted at the hermit.

"And yet, you made it." The hermit's sickly face pruned into a smug smile. "You want to complete the story."

"Y-yeah…" Clarisse hesitated for a moment, trying to decide how to frame her words. "Where do I need to go? Who do I need to find?" She asked in quick succession, curious for answers.

"Were you not listening to the story?" The man asked in a slightly perturbed tone, lowering his gada to rest its striking end on the ground. "At the peak of peaks, trapped in a snow-laden land, a mighty warrior of fire slumbers, awaiting his guide." He spoke with a hint of wonder, looking up into the starry night sky.

"That… doesn't help much." Clarisse replied, her previous confidence continually being unfounded at the cryptic nature of the hermit. "Where's this snow-laden land? We don't get any snow around here, and and- who am I supposed to be looking for? What do I tell them when I do find them? Where do we go from there?"

The hermit let out a chuckle, gazing out into the distance, only glancing back to her occasionally as she presented her menagerie of questions to him. Instead of giving her a direct answer, he simply extended the handle of the gada towards the young redhead. "If I had all the answers, saving the world would be quite an easy affair. The gada will guide you to him, as it guided me to you. Go on, pick it up."

Clarisse eyed the massive brass mace in front of her with suspicion, grabbing the handle loosely before looking up at the hermit. Instead of words, there was only a growing sense of disbelief emanating from her towards the strange robed figure. She gripped her fingers a bit tighter around the handle, stepping backwards to let the gada slant itself on the ground. A few more seconds were spent posturing and getting a proper grip around the handle, which itself was too large for her to hold with one hand alone, before she even tried to lift it up. The hermit who had made it look all too easy so far simply stood and watched, taking in the sight with a smug aura.

"Umph-" Clarisse let out a frustrated noise as she attempted to lift the gada, causing her arms to shudder slightly as the striking end rose a few inches above the ground. She was relieved to find that it wasn't as heavy as she had imagined it to be, but she had to invest a significant effort to raise it any higher than she already had, and so a mere moment later the gada met the ground again with a light thud. "J-just a moment…" she complained, needing to gather her strength before any future attempts.

"Seems you're not strong enough for this yet… perhaps you're not the right person? My eyes must be getting worse over the years…" The old man suggested, outstretching an arm to comfortably grab the gada by its handle.

"No!" Clarisse protested, wrapping her arms around the handle possessively and shooting an accusatory glare at the hermit. There was an itch at the back of her mind, an inkling of hurt pride which wouldn't let her go back home fruitlessly. "I can carry it." She insisted, dragging the gada a few steps back and adjusting her grip to be closer to the striking end.

Clarisse looked up at the hermit once more after catching her breath, a hand wave gesture prompting her to try again, much to his amusement. This time, she used her entire body to hoist the weapon onto her shoulder, holding it there for a few seconds before slowly beginning to lower her hands towards the bottom of the handle.

For each inch she moved her hands down, the striking end loomed higher over her head, until the implement was finally properly in her grip. "See, I can do it! I can-" the enthusiastic redhead celebrated her accomplishment before the tip of the weapon began to keel backwards, and took her with it as it made a much louder thud against the cobbled ground.

The hermit slowly walked up to the fallen girl, wearing a disappointed frown as he looked down at her with crossed arms. "You have a long way to go before you can actually use it…" He mentioned; a dispassionate, cruel tone betraying his indifference with her state.

Clarisse let out a groan as she rolled the gada off of herself and clambered to sit upright, thankful that her knapsack had absorbed some of the impact. "I'll do it. Whatever it takes, I'll do it."

"I suppose that'll have to do…" The old man sighed, turning around and beginning to walk away after making a gesture for her to follow.

Clarisse quickly got onto her feet, not paying attention to her clothes covered in dust as she grabbed the handle of the gada and began haphazardly dragging it in an effort to catch up to the old man. "So where do I go? I'm not… not sure this is going to really help me…"

"Patience… this will likely be a long journey if that's how fast you will be moving." The hermit spat out, walking past the edge of the town until an outhouse came into view past the border, a horse-drawn carriage present next to it with the silhouettes of multiple people nearby. "The hero resides somewhere in the snow-clad peaks to the north… this caravan will only cover the first leg of your journey."

Clarisse heard his plan between the scrapes of alloys against the stone road and the inconvenient pain in her own feet crowding her mind at the moment. "Who are those people? Do you know them?" She asked, pausing to catch her breath again once she had caught up with the hermit.

"Just some everyday merchants. They're headed towards the capital." The hermit shrugged before leaning in closer, eager to see her reaction. "You're not going to chicken out now, are you?"

"I won't!" Clarisse furrowed her brows, yanking the gada's handle to let it rest against her waist. "How do I know if I can trust them?"

"You can't." the man replied in a matter-of-fact tone, a slim grin painted across his face. "I don't know any of them well enough to guarantee anything, but I doubt people will want to mess with a little girl carrying a massive gada."

"Okay…" Clarisse replied, the frown and furrowed brows remaining as a constant as she hoisted the gada onto her shoulder and walked up to the caravan. Her gait was uneven but she managed to not fall over this time, pausing at the side of the carriage and looking over at one of the merchants. "When are we leaving?"

The merchant eyed her with skepticism, sharing a silent yet incredulous glance with his peers and remaining silent until the hermit stepped in. "She'll go in my place. You already have payment up until the capital."

"...Alright. We were just waiting for you." The merchant replied, deciding to keep his thoughts to himself about the nebulous figure who had suddenly become their client. The others began preparations to leave right as he spoke, the entire caravan quickly being loaded with the final goods which had been left outside to serve as makeshift stools.

Clarisse looked back at the hermit while the preparations were being made, confused by his role in this entire situation. "Where are you going to go now? You aren't coming with me?"

"I am a hermit… I go wherever the wind takes me, child." The robed man gave her a wrinkly smile. "Remember the story. When you meet the warrior, you will know it in your heart."

A few minutes later, Clarisse found herself seated in the back end of the caravan. The knapsack kept in her lap served as a decent pillow for her to rest her head on, while the gada lay beside her. Despite the unconventional sleeping pose, she appreciated that she could finally give her feet some rest. She had been neatly tucked away just like the other goods which were being transported, with a window on the backside of the carriage serving as her only window to the outside world at the moment.

It wasn't long before the carriage started moving, and Clarisse peeked out of the window to catch a last nighttime glimpse of her town as it slowly began to fade away into darkness, only distinguishable by the occasional torch placed outside the houses. Clarisse tried to spot the hermit one last time, but it seemed as if he had already left for his next destination, for he had simply been missing since she took her seat inside the carriage. Looking at her hometown gradually disappearing into the night, she whispered a few words to herself as the caravan surged forth.

"I'll become someone special, I know it."

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