A Bitter Seed - Short Fiction

[Emet]

A bitter seed once took root in the heart of a young dreamer. This boy came to realize that he was ordinary. He despaired at this fate, at first. But decided then that he didn't have to be ordinary, if he didn't want to be. He resolved to find something he could be outstanding in. He wanted to be *be somebody*. The boy first went to try his hand at dueling. He wasn't the best, but he was far from the worst. He practiced dueling against mares and other dreamers, and fought hard.

But he soon discovered that no matter how he practiced, there was always someone better than him. No matter how many foes he bested, someone out there could beat him. The boy felt a tiny sprout force its way out of that hard, bitter seed inside. He resolved still further, to find something he was the best at. Something that would make him beyond ordinary.

This time the boy tried to be the greatest fighter. He wanted to be admired and praised for his ability to protect his friends, and slay his enemies.

The boy found this task related to his ability to duel, and that he aimed far better with a chakram than with a blade. He could use the footwork he learned in dueling to empower his fighting, and quickly became a force to be reckoned with.

But one dream, he was overconfident. He was defeated, humiliated. And in the bottom of his heart, he felt that bitter seed growing a little more. Panicked now, the boy knew he had to stop this seed from consuming him. He could prove he was beyond ordinary.

The boy threw himself into his work, determined to become the greatest there ever was. He spoke little now, avoided other dreamers. He didn't want them to see him as ordinary. The boy worked until the strain nearly broke him, but completed the project: He crafted a new fortress, a Stronghold in the City of Dreams. A castle with clever defenses, traps, towers. A defensive masterpiece.

And when he revealed his work to the dreamers of the City, all were astounded. Amazed. His work was breathtaking, beautiful in its form and utility.

And the boy was happy. His work was credited as a generous contribution to the City of Dreams, and dreamers hailed him the greatest Planesmith of the Age. When the darkmares attacked, dreamers would retreat to his work and use it to save lives. He felt proud of his success.

One dream, he walked along a path he had never explored. And there he found that his work had inspired the dreamers of the City. He found three dreamers, each building a fortress. The triangular pattern of structures supported each other, creating shelter and flanking upon any potential attacker. The dreamers hailed him as he admired their work, and asked him his advice. How to follow in his path!

And it was only then that the bitter seed within bloomed, fanning out petals the color of rust.