Lost in Thought, Lost to the Farthest
The Enclave > Lore > The Farthest

Well and well; she's in her bed, asleep finally. She doted on that boy, and there's the rub of it. If he'd lived in the City Without or the Port docks there'd have been none of this. Apprenticed he'd have been and had some sense knocked into his head years ago. It's too easy to be Lost in city streets, none of this wide-eyed dreaming and following Master Lareth's ruffians here and yon, no.

Someone has to say it now - it's been the better part of two days and neither hide nor hair of the boy, not in field nor Road. Lost to the Farthest he is, though none may want to say it. It could have happened anywhere with his head in the clouds and the ramblings of troubadors the way it was. Blind man or a fool to be Lost from a village, and isn't that the truth? I'll tell you this, mark my words, I'll be placing a coin with the Powers tonight, for I'll be the one his mother leans on in the days ahead, and there's a task.

Well and well, and maybe the Beautiful Stranger herself will point the boy back to the village - just like Krineth once on a time, none the worse for wear and learned his lesson well. I'm afeared that's only the way in tales, mind, so best to expect the worst.

[ Posted by Reason on May 2, 2005 ]