Two Roads

Author: Seth

Arka. The capitol of the Talons, the ultimate destination of master artisans, philosophers, poets, writers, and artists the world over, a hub of prosperity and commerce the likes of which could be found nowhere else, the glittering jewel of the Talos empire.

The most mind-numbingly boring place on the entire planet.

At least to him, but then, he'd been born there. Wonders that thousands of citizens and commoners could only dream of seeing lay just outside his window. Long ago the endless masterpieces that budded, bloomed and were devoured in that great city had lost their appeal to him. It wasn't because they weren't interesting, they were, very much so, but they didn't engage him, didn't let him do anything other than sit back and marvel at the genius behind the work.

Not allowed. That characterized a lot of his life. He had almost no freedom, and what he did have seemed artificial and trite. The interests he had were indulged sparingly, and only after he'd fulfilled all his prior obligations. He was never allowed to leave the city, and even on the few occasions he was granted the privilege of leaving the castle he always trod the exact same path, perpetually under heavy guard.

He still took those walks though, whenever he could. Even the merest illusion of freedom was better than his gilded cage.

Each time he makes the circuit of the city there is one place that fascinates him, catches hold of his imagination and doesn't let go.

Two-thirds of the way through his tour, just after the dinghy smithy that always grows unnaturally silent the moment he draws near, there is a fork in the road. It is a perfect parting of ways, with no bias given to either avenue save for the amount of people trudging down either street, and that too changes often. The right street leads to the small bakery he knows so well because the baker always insists he take a free anpan with him every time he goes by, and past the bakery it eventually snakes its way back to the castle. The other goes straight down to the docks, giving him an uninhibited view of the coming and going of boats of all shapes and sizes, carrying people of all walks of life to and from Arka.

Each time he invariably takes the right street. Each time the left becomes more and more the path less traveled, the path that, he hopes, will make all the difference.

He knows he'll walk down that street some day, but not yet. Not just yet.