THE TRAVELER

The older woman wiped the sweat from her brow before reaching up for that one last apple. With a snap, the green fruit popped off the branch. She turned over the apple in her hand, feeling the skin— no blemish, no worm holes, no mushy spots. A good apple, one that deserved to be eaten by the river side on a nice summer’s day or baked into a delectable apple pie. She placed the apple into the already bursting basket.

She reached down to pick it up when a voice called to her. “Here, let me help you with that.”

The young man stooped down and in one swoop lifted the basket from the ground and onto the cart loaded with other baskets. Around his wrist sat a leather band, in the center of which rested a scorpion encased in amber, and by his side a curved sword and strange crescent shaped knife. His brown hair fell over fae-like ears, and his olive skin and dark orange eyes gave away his ancestry: a Coanian.

“How far away is your village?” He asked, grabbing onto the handles of the cart. His Futharese was almost perfect, save for the accent he carried.

“Oh, just a ways down the main road.”

“Splendid. If you’ll lead the way?”

“Of course.” The pair began to meander down the country road. The Coanian couldn’t help but be amazed at everything around him. The trees, the call of songbirds, the fields dotted with wildflowers, rolling hills, all leading to a far-off plateau. He breathed in the fresh air of the grasslands, feeling his heartbeat thrum with the land.

“Who are you?” the old lady asked, finally speaking up.

“I’m just a simple traveler.”

“Where are you traveling to? Are you lost, young man?”

The Coanian let out a chuckle before shaking his head. “No, no. I’m not lost.”

“Where are you traveling to, then?”

He gave a faint smile. “Have you ever heard of a philosopher named Ikkyu?”

“I can’t say that I have. Was he Coanian, like you?”

“Actually, he was a human; lived among the nymphs of Tethra. Strange man, that Ikkyu.”

“Did you meet him?”

“Well, not exactly. Let’s just say that I know he was a wise man., I might have met him at some point.” The Coanian began to trail off. “Anyways, he had a saying: “Having no destination, I am never lost.”