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— Understood, I'll get to it this very moment.
Garrett finds writing utensils and paper, then settles in to work. After some time, he returns to the client and presents his creation.
Once upon a time, there was a young lad. Born into a simple family—father a leatherworker, mother a seamstress. Ordinary laborers who desired only a quiet and peaceful life as cogs in the local economy. But the son was not so simple... The spirit of adventure smoldered in his soul, and it took only a small spark to ignite it. One day, while playing in the street, he noticed a curious piece of paper sticking out of a trash bin. It was a treasure map, promising untold riches to whoever proved brave and clever enough to endure an incredibly dangerous journey into unknown lands and find the coveted hoard.
And then the lad's soul caught fire, and he realized that this was exactly for him, that from now on, this was his life's goal. For many years he spent himself mastering the blade until he felt strong enough to realize his dream. The map stated that the destination lay far across the ocean, in a desolate place inhabited only by wild animals, where living skeletons wandered restlessly. The lad, who by then had become a tall man and skilled warrior, signed up as a sailor and set out to roam the vast seas.
What did he not see during his travels... The enchanting songs of sirens, mutinies on ship, bloody skirmishes with pirates; he even happened to clash with the Kraken itself in a desperate battle. His ship was wrecked, and the entire crew went to feed the sea monsters. But our hero survived! On a broken plank, the tide washed his nearly lifeless body onto an unknown shore. Coming to, he looked around and realized—this was it! By fate's will, he had arrived at the very place where unrested bones roam aimlessly across the wastes.
In a desperate struggle for survival, he hunted unseen creatures, drank their blood, and slept inside their carcasses. Slowly but surely, the hero advanced toward his goal. And then, finally! He reached the marked spot. His heart and soul sang a joyful song in unison, giving second wind to his exhausted body. For three days and three nights he tirelessly tore at the earth... But he found nothing.
On the fourth morning, his last strengths left him, and he collapsed to the ground, right into the grave he had dug with his own hands. He looked one last time at the rising sun and asked it: must everything really end this way? After all, he had done everything in his power to pursue this obsession—and did it all lead only to death? What then was the meaning of it all?!
The only answer was the approaching growling of beasts that had scented easy prey. Vultures were already circling in the sky, gradually descending in anticipation of a feast. Suddenly... The beasts roared fiercely, blades clashed. There are people here! And the sounds of battle brought him the answer to his question. His entire life—an endless struggle, the goal of which was actually not treasure, but an irreconcilable duel with fate. And if that is so... Then he should meet death just as he had lived.
Numbing fingers felt for the hilt of a trusty blade; a sudden realization made his fading heart beat faster. Springing to his feet, the hero leaped from the grave and drew his weapon for one last fight. Before him appeared a small caravan; guards were bravely fighting the beasts and needed help. The monsters, seized by animal rage, did not expect a sudden attack from the rear by a hero who had just been lying at death's door. Claws, teeth, glints of sun on swords, the sound of rending flesh, animal roars, battle cries, and agonizing screams—everything merged into one... Soon it was all over. The bloody veil clouding the hero's mind was replaced by impenetrable darkness; he saw and felt nothing more.
However, something prevented him from finally drifting into oblivion. Right, because he still hadn't found the treasure, and that was his entire life's goal! One cannot simply accept that. The darkness began to dissipate, senses returned... The hero came to in the company of a traveling merchant, the owner of the caravan he had tried to protect. The merchant was grateful for the support and, in turn, provided all necessary aid to save his life. And when the hero told him his story, the merchant thought deeply. And he said to him:
— Now then, how could a real map to a treasure located three thousand leagues away end up in a trash bin? Most likely, someone drew it just for fun. For just as you dreamed of becoming a desperate adventurer, someone else might have dreamed of becoming an outstanding cartographer.
The hero grew sad at these words. Did it mean his search really was nothing more than an adventure for adventure's sake, and the treasure merely a fiction?
The merchant smiled and placed a hand on his shoulder.
— No, not at all. The treasure exists. And you found it. Or rather, it has been with you all this time. All your will, your burning desire, and your brave heart that forced you to move forward despite all the twists of fate—who you became by passing through all hardships and preserving the ability to fight regardless of everything. That is the real treasure, the real strength. It is within you, and that is exactly why you were able to travel this entire path.
These words helped the hero lift his spirits and realize that his cherished dream had already come true. He and the merchant became good friends and set off to continue traveling together.
They experienced many more adventures together, until in one skirmish the hero perished, bravely shielding his friend with his body. And he never knew that the real treasure was actually an artifact allowing one to raise a bodyguard from the dead with absolute loyalty—one which he had just barely failed to dig up. The cunning merchant pocketed it and used it on the hero. The morale is this: whoever deceives themselves will easily be deceived by others. Whoever deceives themselves to instill strength within will rise to continue doing so, and inevitably meet the dust face-first, never realizing how much they contributed to such an outcome themselves.
And so the fairy tale ends; those who read it are good sorts.
Garrett finds writing utensils and paper, then settles in to work. After some time, he returns to the client and presents his creation.
Once upon a time, there was a young lad. Born into a simple family—father a leatherworker, mother a seamstress. Ordinary laborers who desired only a quiet and peaceful life as cogs in the local economy. But the son was not so simple... The spirit of adventure smoldered in his soul, and it took only a small spark to ignite it. One day, while playing in the street, he noticed a curious piece of paper sticking out of a trash bin. It was a treasure map, promising untold riches to whoever proved brave and clever enough to endure an incredibly dangerous journey into unknown lands and find the coveted hoard.
And then the lad's soul caught fire, and he realized that this was exactly for him, that from now on, this was his life's goal. For many years he spent himself mastering the blade until he felt strong enough to realize his dream. The map stated that the destination lay far across the ocean, in a desolate place inhabited only by wild animals, where living skeletons wandered restlessly. The lad, who by then had become a tall man and skilled warrior, signed up as a sailor and set out to roam the vast seas.
What did he not see during his travels... The enchanting songs of sirens, mutinies on ship, bloody skirmishes with pirates; he even happened to clash with the Kraken itself in a desperate battle. His ship was wrecked, and the entire crew went to feed the sea monsters. But our hero survived! On a broken plank, the tide washed his nearly lifeless body onto an unknown shore. Coming to, he looked around and realized—this was it! By fate's will, he had arrived at the very place where unrested bones roam aimlessly across the wastes.
In a desperate struggle for survival, he hunted unseen creatures, drank their blood, and slept inside their carcasses. Slowly but surely, the hero advanced toward his goal. And then, finally! He reached the marked spot. His heart and soul sang a joyful song in unison, giving second wind to his exhausted body. For three days and three nights he tirelessly tore at the earth... But he found nothing.
On the fourth morning, his last strengths left him, and he collapsed to the ground, right into the grave he had dug with his own hands. He looked one last time at the rising sun and asked it: must everything really end this way? After all, he had done everything in his power to pursue this obsession—and did it all lead only to death? What then was the meaning of it all?!
The only answer was the approaching growling of beasts that had scented easy prey. Vultures were already circling in the sky, gradually descending in anticipation of a feast. Suddenly... The beasts roared fiercely, blades clashed. There are people here! And the sounds of battle brought him the answer to his question. His entire life—an endless struggle, the goal of which was actually not treasure, but an irreconcilable duel with fate. And if that is so... Then he should meet death just as he had lived.
Numbing fingers felt for the hilt of a trusty blade; a sudden realization made his fading heart beat faster. Springing to his feet, the hero leaped from the grave and drew his weapon for one last fight. Before him appeared a small caravan; guards were bravely fighting the beasts and needed help. The monsters, seized by animal rage, did not expect a sudden attack from the rear by a hero who had just been lying at death's door. Claws, teeth, glints of sun on swords, the sound of rending flesh, animal roars, battle cries, and agonizing screams—everything merged into one... Soon it was all over. The bloody veil clouding the hero's mind was replaced by impenetrable darkness; he saw and felt nothing more.
However, something prevented him from finally drifting into oblivion. Right, because he still hadn't found the treasure, and that was his entire life's goal! One cannot simply accept that. The darkness began to dissipate, senses returned... The hero came to in the company of a traveling merchant, the owner of the caravan he had tried to protect. The merchant was grateful for the support and, in turn, provided all necessary aid to save his life. And when the hero told him his story, the merchant thought deeply. And he said to him:
— Now then, how could a real map to a treasure located three thousand leagues away end up in a trash bin? Most likely, someone drew it just for fun. For just as you dreamed of becoming a desperate adventurer, someone else might have dreamed of becoming an outstanding cartographer.
The hero grew sad at these words. Did it mean his search really was nothing more than an adventure for adventure's sake, and the treasure merely a fiction?
The merchant smiled and placed a hand on his shoulder.
— No, not at all. The treasure exists. And you found it. Or rather, it has been with you all this time. All your will, your burning desire, and your brave heart that forced you to move forward despite all the twists of fate—who you became by passing through all hardships and preserving the ability to fight regardless of everything. That is the real treasure, the real strength. It is within you, and that is exactly why you were able to travel this entire path.
These words helped the hero lift his spirits and realize that his cherished dream had already come true. He and the merchant became good friends and set off to continue traveling together.
They experienced many more adventures together, until in one skirmish the hero perished, bravely shielding his friend with his body. And he never knew that the real treasure was actually an artifact allowing one to raise a bodyguard from the dead with absolute loyalty—one which he had just barely failed to dig up. The cunning merchant pocketed it and used it on the hero. The morale is this: whoever deceives themselves will easily be deceived by others. Whoever deceives themselves to instill strength within will rise to continue doing so, and inevitably meet the dust face-first, never realizing how much they contributed to such an outcome themselves.
And so the fairy tale ends; those who read it are good sorts.