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The Story of a Boy


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[[This will be an ongoing story told by my character to help me settle his foundations before things really start happening. All of it is subject to get tweaked as I go along and hammer a few things out. Its mostly for my own use, and eventually reference to any friends I make who want to know more about my character.The style is in honor of Final Fantasy X, where Tidus narrates the story as it goes along. Obviously the difference is this is a literary medium. So anything in italics is the voice of the storyteller.]]


Garryson sat on the deck of a slowly swaying ship. The sun was beginning to set, tinting the air with orange hues. He smiled softly and waited patiently. The sun had to go down before he could see the stars above him.


Where do you begin a story? Do stories even really have beginnings or endings? These are the sort of things I think about. My whole life I have related everything to stories. Maybe my reality was too much for me, so I had to make sense of it somehow.


Not to say my life has been harder or more tragic than anyone else's. I think maybe the Twelve put us in the lives we have because they aren't easy for us. Everyone has to struggle in order to learn.


The world is changing. Even more so after the Calamity. I was too young to really comprehend the events at the time. Nor do I really remember much now. I wasn't part of a world-wide picture back then. I was just a kid.


Something is about to happen, though. I feel it. Its why I'm finally returning. It is finally my time to be part of the bigger story. Everything I have experienced has prepared me for the path I'm about to take.


Listen to my story... It will most likely be the last one I can tell. I'm still young and inexperienced, but I refuse to let the world change without my hand in it. I'll become a Hero, or die trying. And the latter is more likely.


The surface of the water was still and calm. It was only broken by a young boy falling in. Underneath the surface, his small frame sank steadily through the clear water.


I was born in Limsa Lominsa. I was a timid kid, afraid of everything. I don't know what I was so afraid of... but I just wanted to hide from everything.


The boy continued to sink, his over sized hat floating off his head.


Being a kid was tough for me. My parents didn't really get along, and they had a lot going on. I felt sometimes like I was in the way. So I just stayed quiet and did my best to not be noticed.


His eyes opened. Grabbing his hat, he swam back up to the surface and inhaled as much air as he could. Rubbing his eyes, he looked to see what had happened to the boys who pushed him in. They were laughing and walking further down the road. He slowly pulled himself out of the water and rung his hat out.


Looking back, I don't think any of the kids who teased me meant me any harm. Some of 'em probably just wanted to be my friend. But I took a while to grow up. I had a sense of fear and worry ingrained into me. It took me a lot of years to start seeing the good in the world.



His pants sloshed around him as he trudged his way back home. His hat never laid how he wanted, sometimes covering one of his eyes. It felt like a long walk home. Pressing his ear up to the door a moment, he walked inside and tried to get to his room without anyone noticing.


"What happened to you?"


Garryson froze at the voice. He kept his expression hidden a few moments before putting on a bright smile and looking at his father. "The water just looked so nice. I couldn't even wait before my clothes were off before jumping in!"


His father laughed and shook his head. "Dry them off before your mother gets home, would'ya? I'm the one she yells at, y'know." With a charming smile, his father patted his shoulder and went into another room.


I miss my dad. He wasn't the greatest father, and had a lot of shortcomings just as a person. But he loved me, and I knew that.


Once he dried off, he headed towards the kitchen. He stopped in front of his parents' room and peeked in. His heart lurched in his chest. She was doing it again. His mother sat in a chair, staring blankly. It was as if the world did not exist around her.


My mother was a very sad person. I don't pretend to understand all that she went through. But how I came to forgive her for what she did... Well that is another story.


Garryson and his father stood in front of a grave. Neither of them spoke or shed tears. They couldn't. The shock was still in full effect.


Dad had a hard time raising me by himself. I only got a few more years with him after my mother had killed herself. He was old and had lived an exciting life that had taken its toll on his body. A lot of the time he was at different ports. He was in the business of selling ships, so I stayed at home and kept out of trouble.


His father wrapped an arm around Garryson's shoulders. It was then he finally started to cry. His father closed his eyes and let his own tears fall down his face. The name of his mother was carved into the stone.


I cried a lot when Dad died. I was alone. I hardly knew anything about the world. Honestly, sometimes I wonder how I survived those years.


But I'll tell you about those times. After all, this is only the beginning of the story.

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As soon as you said this was an FFX style of storytelling, I instantly perked up and heard To Zanarkand in my head. Which is probably why I felt so damn sad the whole time. But storytelling is supposed to invoke emotion, and I really enjoyed it.

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As soon as you said this was an FFX style of storytelling, I instantly perked up and heard To Zanarkand in my head. Which is probably why I felt so damn sad the whole time. But storytelling is supposed to invoke emotion, and I really enjoyed it.

((Same here, and at the mention of the ocean my only thought was "Oh $#!^ Sin!".  Going to be following this definitely.))

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As soon as you said this was an FFX style of storytelling, I instantly perked up and heard To Zanarkand in my head. Which is probably why I felt so damn sad the whole time. But storytelling is supposed to invoke emotion, and I really enjoyed it.

((Same here, and at the mention of the ocean my only thought was "Oh $#!^ Sin!".  Going to be following this definitely.))


The "this is my story" feel, the ocean and the Calamity did it for me. I thought of Sin at Kilika and storming that one beach (can't remember which, maybe around Mushroom Rock Road).

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  • 2 weeks later...

The stars were starting to glitter in the sky one by one. Garryson laid back against the deck and stared up above him. He hummed softly as he tried to make out shapes in the stars.


What does it mean to love someone? Does it mean you would do anything for them? I often wonder if what I did at the time was out of love... or of fear.


The young Garryson walked silently through the crowded streets. His large hat drooped over his eye, his worn jacket hugging him tightly. People would occasionally bump into him, but he did not react.


I stopped speaking after my father died. I didn't really have anyone to speak to anyway. I survived somehow. I don't really remember how. I was just... there. I kept breathing, even though I didn't want to.


"Hey, there he is guys!" Garryson didn't react to the small group of boys that had happened upon him. "Whoever knocks his hat off wins." One of the boys declared. So they began to throw rocks at him. Some of them missed. Some of them hit him. He just stood there, waiting for them to stop. One of the rocks hit him on the side of the head, sending him onto the ground.


"Hey you brats!" a woman's voice screamed. The other kids scattered immediately. Garryson stared up from the ground, a face coming to hover over him. She smiled kindly down at him.


He blinked and was in the present again, staring up at the stars instead. His hand reached out, trying to draw the features of her face. It was getting harder and harder to remember.


That was the first time I met her. It seems I am cursed. Red headed women seem to always play a prominent role in my life. Does that mean I'm going to fall in love with one? Maybe. But then again I pretty much fall in love with any girl who smiles at me.


But anyway... That was the day I met Kate. She took me in and cared for me.


Kate had her hair tied back and was humming a song as she cooked in their small kitchen. Garryson just watched her like he always did. She was always so happy and full of life. With a wrinkling nose, Garryson started to squirm in his chair, wringing his hands together. It was happening again. What would she say if he actually did it?


She heard a chair scrape across the floor then looked over to the small child looking up at her. "What is it Sweetheart?" she asked him. He squirmed more before hesitantly opening his arms open. Kate seemed puzzled a moment before realization spread across her face. She stifled a giggle. "Do you want a hug?"


It was a minute or two before Garryson finally nodded. Kate knelt down and squeezed the boy tight. She kissed his cheek and petted his messy hair. "You can hug me anytime you like." Garryson slowly clung onto her.


After that I was basically a growth on Kate's side. She let me hug her whenever I wanted. So obviously that was all the time. My mother... used to push me away. Kate never did. It was nice. I felt like I had something to lean on.


Garryson's legs swung over the side of a stool as he guzzled down another glass of milk. He was in a little restaurant that Kate worked at. The Elezen behind the bar gave him a wink. "Want another one, Champ?" Garryson nodded quickly.


I eventually started to speak again. But only to Kate. Its not that I hated anyone. I just... couldn't talk to them. I was scared. But even more than that... I was scared of losing Kate.


He watched Kate bustle from table to table. She kept going back to one table that only had one customer. It was a Hyur man that kept watching Kate as well. She smiled differently at this man. Something started to make Garryson's stomach hurt, but he had no idea why. The longer he watched the two, the more it hurt.


"Where are my shoes?!" Kate screamed frantically through the house. "I dunno!" Garryson replied, shrugging dramatically with his hands behind his back. "They were--... Wait a minute... Show me your hands." Kate ordered, slowly slitting her eyes at him. Garryson tried to think of a way to fool her before turning and bolting towards the other room.


"You little sneak! Get back here!" She chased after him, avoiding the furniture that he was leaping and rolling over to get to him. "I am gonna be late! Give them back RIGHT NOW!"


Garryson turned to stick his tongue out at her. She used that opportunity to finally catch him. Pinning him to the floor, she started to wrestle her shoes from him. "Why do you always do stuff like this?" she sighed.


"I don't... like when you leave." Garryson softly admitted, turning his gaze away from her. Kate's expression softened. "But you don't do this when I go to work..." Garryson frowned and tried to hide his face. "But when I go out with guys..."


This kind of thing happened for a while. I would try and sabotage any attempt she made to date anyone. I wanted her to myself. I didn't want someone to take her away. But eventually I realized that... she was lonely. There were feelings we couldn't fulfill in each other. I was too young.


If I stayed I would have either continued to fight it, or lived with the pain building up inside of me. So one night I left and never went back. Looking back... that was probably the worst way possible to do that. I'm sure she worried. I'm sure she assumed the worst. I'm sure she cried...


Garryson sighed slowly, the faint mist of air visible in the cold. His brow knitted together as he once again tried to trace her face in the space above him. It was hard to remember.


I still wasn't ready to stand on my own after I ran away from Kate. But... by luck, or by will of the Twelve, I met the man who taught me what it means to be alive.


Sometimes I think about trying to find Kate. To apologize. To tell her what had happened. But I get scared of how she feels about me now. Or if she even remembers me. Whether or not I ever see her again... she will always be an important part of me.


Like so many others... she helped forge my story.

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Humming a song, Garryson slowly danced around the deck of the ship. He pretended that all the glittering stars were his audience. It had been years since he performed, and he missed it.


Its a beautiful thing... when someone learns to love their life. When through all the dark nights of despair... you finally see some light. For me, that happened when I was a teenager. It certainly wasn't the end of anything. It was the true beginning of my life as a man.


"Step right up! Come see with your own eyes!"


Garryson could not help but marvel at the sights around him. He had been hired to help clean at a circus that was passing through. It was hard not to get distracted. There were so many bright colors and sweet smells.


In the dead of the night, people started to finally go home. Garryson took a few moments to lean on his broom and study everything. Why was this so appealing to him? Perhaps he marveled at people's ability to just be happy and have fun.


Later on, he was sweeping one of the stages. He began to sing one of the songs he had heard from earlier. After a while he stopped sweeping and used his broom as a dance partner. They glided across the stage, twirling and turning. When he stopped remembering the words of the song, he dipped his broom, pretending it was a beautiful woman in a stunning gown.


One person's applause echoed through the tent. Garryson jumped a little and looked around to see who it was. He thought he saw the outline of someone, but he couldn't be sure. A light blush dusting his cheeks, he got back to work and hoped he wasn't going to get yelled at.


It was lonely working at that circus. I kept wishing I had someone to share the experience with. I think back then... I believed that a smile that wasn't seen by someone else didn't truly exist.


Garryson sauntered towards his next destination with his broom over his shoulder. His long ears twitched as he heard something nearby. He watched as a Roegadyn and some of his companions talked to an Elezen woman. The woman did not seem happy to be talking to them. His feet started to take him closer and closer.


"I said to just leave me alone." The woman commanded evenly.


"I suggest you listen to her."


The Roegadyn turned to see a young Garryson glaring at him. He laughed and approached him. In response, Garryson pointed his broom at him like a weapon.


"What are y'gonna do? Clean me?"


"I am the bringer of your broom! ... Y'know ... like doom?" Garryson sighed and shook his head. "Hold on, I can do better." He started to chew one of his fingernails as he leaned on his broom and thought.


The Roegadyn took a moment to comprehend what was going on before he stepped up to the boy. In response, Garryson quickly swung his weapon at the other man's crotch. A metallic rang sounded out. He realized the large man was wearing armor, but for a few quick seconds his eyes bulged as he thought about how little he knew of Roegadyn anatomy.


He held his broom up to block the huge fist coming at him. His broom broke in half and he was sent to the ground. His instincts told him to run, and to run fast. He had no chance. Just as he started to go, he saw the woman being held in place by the other men. What would happen to her if he ran away? Flashes of Kate's face replaced the stranger woman's for a few brief moments.


Slowly gritting his teeth, he grabbed the remaining wood from his broom and ran at the Roegadyn. He only could score a few blows, and each felt like they didn't hurt his opponent. But each punch he received sent waves of pain through his body. Bloodied and bruised, he lay on his back struggling to breath.


He wanted to run. That is how he had survived all this time. But there was someone in trouble. Slowly getting to his feet, he grabbed his stick once more and pointed it defiantly.


The Roegadyn laughed. "You look pretty menacing with that little stick."


"Its not a stick." Garryson grinned brightly. "Its a sword. And I'm a knight. There's a damsel in distress."


"If that's a sword..." The Roegadyn pulled a large axe from his back and held it ready.


Garryson shut one of his eyes as blood trickled over it. He was probably going to die. So he let his imagination boost his confidence. He stared at his thin arm and the broken stick weakly grasped in his hand. After blinking, suddenly his arm was covered in armor, and in his hand was a shining sword. He smiled warmly and ran forward.


Next thing I knew... I woke up on a ship. It turns out the circus was all just a front for a band of pirates. Pirates that had evidently saved my life.


His head was throbbing when he woke up. After his eyes had adjusted to the dim light, he looked over to see a man sitting in a chair watching him.


"Wh-who are you?"


"Cap'n Arkus Lionhart..." The man stood up and bowed deeply. "At yer service, lad."


He was a Hyur man with crimson red dreadlocks. After giving Garryson some water, Arkus sat back down. Garryson gulped the water down, realizing how thirsty he was.


"That was quite a show y'put on, mate. I clapped for ya, but I'm 'fraid ya were awready unconcious."


Garryson blushed faintly and looked away. "I-I thought I was gonna die... so I... might as well pretend I was a knight..."


"Its the dreamers that make summa the biggest changes in tha world." Arkus leaned forward and smiled kindly. "Those who say there are no heroes... Well, I say they be too scared 'ta do what it takes to be somethin' more, savvy?"




Arkus laughed. "So you wanna be a knight, do ya?"


"I-I... uhm..."


"Learn 'ta be a pirate first." Arkus stood up and started to walk way. He looked over his shoulder and grinned. "Once y'do that... then I'll teach ya to be a knight. Get some rest. Ya start in the mornin'."


My days with Arkus and the others were the happiest of my life. I learned so much about the world and about myself. I wish they would have lasted forever. But I've learned all too deeply that nothing lasts forever in this life.


All I have now are memories.

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Garryson pulled himself onto the tip of the highest mast on the ship. Finding his center and balancing himself, he opened his arms up wide and took in the stars around him. One of his arms dropped to his side while the other hand came up in front of his view. His thumb and pointer finger closed towards each other until it looked like he was holding one of the tiny stars.


Most of my life I've felt... so small. Maybe part of it is being shorter than a lot of other guys I meet... but I think part of it is how insignificant I feel when I think of the grand scheme of things. Can I really make a difference somewhere? Will anyone remember my name?


What does it mean to be alive?


He awoke in a panic. His gaze turned in every direction, trying to figure out what had happened, and where he was. Once his breathing slowed down he noticed a note stabbed into a nearby tree. With a grunt, he got to his feet and read the note.


"Learn what the cost of living is."


Garryson stared at the note angrily. How was he supposed to figure that out? Pulling the knife from the tree, he walked towards the sound of water. It truly hit him once his feet hit the sand of the beach. He had been deserted on a small island somewhere. A small sea breeze made him look down at himself.


"Naked... of course. Arkus, what the hell? You'll give me a knife, but clothes are too much of an advantage?"


Grumbling more complaints, he sat down in the sand and pouted. He stared out at the water, waiting for the others to come pick him up. The sun started to dip below the horizon. Once it had been dark a while he rolled onto the sand next to him and fell asleep.


Several hours later he woke up shivering. His stomach growled and felt like it was going to implode. It was too dark to find something to warm him, let alone food. So he curled up on himself and waited the miserable night out.


Garryson stood at the edge of the beach, the ocean tide washing over his feet slowly over and over. There were bags under his eyes and his shoulders were slumped in defeat. The sun was slowly rising, lighting his island prison.


If he had to stay there even another day he was going to need food and shelter. Trudging off into the trees, he began his first exploration of the island.


Once again, I'm not sure how I survived. Days passed. Then weeks. I spent most of my time wandering around finding water and something edible. After getting sick from a few different plants I had little knowledge of, I started to hunt the smaller game around the island.


Garryson squatted in the brush, waiting for his prey. He had been having bad luck lately, and was desperate for some food. His hand gripped his knife tighter and tighter as he watched a small animal head towards his trap. Just before it would have fallen for it, a larger animal leaped onto the animal and killed it almost instantly.


His heart skipped a beat. It seemed like everything started to spin as he watched his food being eaten by another. A rage he had never felt before started to build inside him. Before he knew it, he felt himself sprinting towards the predator screaming at the top of his lungs.


He fought with the beast a few moments that seemed like days, until finally it sunk its teeth into his shoulder. Screaming out in pain, Garryson drove his knife into its side. Shoving the beast off of him, the two stared at each other, each bleeding. Garryson started to slowly back away, keeping his eyes locked on his opponent. Once he was far enough away, he turned and ran towards his shelter in a panic.


Blood was flowing from his wound. He was starting to get light headed. If he didn't treat himself, no one else would. And then he would be dead. Once he got back to his encampment on the beach, he started looking through everything he had collected for some sort of bandages.


Some days earlier he had found a wrecked boat on another beach. There had been some medical supplies there. His fingers could barely work as he got the first aid kit open and began wrapping his shoulder. Once he did what he could, he collapsed against a rock. His face was clammy and pale, his breathing ragged. It wasn't long before he lost consciousness.


I can't count how many times in my life that I honestly can't explain how I survived. I was always weak and uninformed of the world. I should be dead. After that first meeting with a beast I didn't even recognize, I finally began thinking about the lesson I was supposed to be learning. What did it cost for me to keep living day in and day out?


While I did that, I was planning my revenge. I wanted it dead. I feared it, so I had to kill it. I had no experience in tracking or survival, but through trial and error I finally found where it lived. I thought that I would be safe once it was dead. I thought I would be happy.


Garryson studied his bloodied trap. He had obviously been stolen from by the beast again. There was a trail of blood. Even he could follow that. Anger built inside him as he tracked his nemesis. Garryson caught site of it, his adrenaline pumping. Not wanting to miss his chance, he sprinted forward with a sharpened stick. The beast turned to him and began to bat away the stick that Garryson was jabbing at it.


He had to keep his distance. If it bit him again, he probably would not survive this time. Once again the battle seemed like it lasted days. Garryson was not the stronger opponent. He was not adept at surviving. But he had to win. The beast lunged at him, his teeth bared as it got closer and closer to Garryson's neck. He managed to shove the shaft of his stick into the creature's mouth, holding it barely at bay. If he didn't act he was going to die.


Pulling out his knife, he quickly stabbed it into its neck. It let out a low growl and immediately began to weaken. He let out a scream of anger as he pushed the animal to the ground and stabbed it over and over. There was blood all over him. The life in front of him vanished, leaving only a lifeless corpse.


Garryson threw his head back and howled in triumph. But his elation did not last long. He caught site of something nearby. There were three smaller versions of what he had just killed, and they cowered in fear. His breathing stopped, his heart raced, and his mind went black. There were bones next to the little ones. What he had just killed was a mother. It had been bringing food back for its children.


Anguish ripped through his body. What had he done? He didn't need to kill it. What was he thinking? Who had he become? He dropped the knife and slowly walked away from the scene. He found himself at the edge of a cliff, looking down at the ocean below.


"Gonna jump?" a familiar voice asked from behind.


Garryson glanced back to see Arkus leaning against a tree. With a weak snort, Garryson turned back towards the ocean. "I wish I could..."


"Tell me what you learned."


Taking a deep breath to calm himself, he whispered weakly, "We are... consumers."


Arkus smiled widely to himself. "Go on..."


"We... consume life... in order to maintain life. Whether its plants... or animals... we eat other living things to sustain our bodies. In order for us to live... something else must die..."


"So I would argue..." Arkus started, pushing off the tree to go stand next to Garryson. "That... if ya live without a purpose... yer dishonorin' all the life that sustained ya... savvy?"


Garryson furrowed his brow. "I... never thought about it like that..."


"If yer livin' just 'ta live... yer wastin' life. Yer wastin' resources by fiddlin' about." Arkus smirked over to him. "I know ye 'ave that promise... We don't hafta talk 'bout it. But ya can't get by that alone... Y'gotta live fer something."


Slowly nodding, Garryson turned to Arkus. "But... what about the life we take that... isn't necessary." His eyes almost pleaded for an answer as he continued. "Why do we kill things we think are threats? Why do we hate them? Why do we make them hate us by killing their loved ones? What is it all for?"


Arkus sighed slowly. "Yer finally startin' to see the sad truth of this world... Ya find an ideal... a way of life... a way of thinkin'... then y'have 'ta defend that way. There will always be someone lookin' 'ta kill ya fer it."


"We can't all live together?" Garryson asked weakly, tears starting to fall down his face.


"I... don't think we can, lad... no." Arkus put his hand on the boy's shoulder with a solemn look. "These sorta things... Ya either numb yerself to it all... or ya struggle. Ye keep strugglin'. Because wisdom comes from strugglin'. It won't be handed to ya."


Garryson fell to his knees and started to sob. "Should I... Sh-should I just die...?"


Shaking his head, Arkus looked out to the ocean. "No, lad... You gotta live. There is a reason fer yer life you haven't quite found yet."


To this day... sometimes I still feel small. Insignificant.


Garryson held his hand out to make it look like he held a bundle of stars in his palm.


But other times... I feel larger than life. I feel like I can make a difference. The world is changed by small things. Through small things are big things brought to pass.


I may be small. I may be weak. But I'm still struggling. I am alive. And as long as I keep breathing... I change the world around me.

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Slowly gripping the helm, Garryson was flooded with memories of his time at sea. All the hard work and feeling of belonging were gone. One moment they were there, and the next they were behind him.


It doesn't get any easier... losing everything you love. It seems death is the only thing I can count on sometimes. I suppose we all will die one day... but how do we go on without those that gave us strength?


Garryson stood on the small lifeboat watching it happen. It was right in front of him, but it didn't seem... real. The Defiance was sinking. Everyone he loved was aboard. His home was being taken away by the waves.


The tears drenched his face the moment he saw the last of the ship dip beneath the surface. It was gone. He was all alone again. Once more he had survived and was forced to keep on living.


He curled up on the boat for what seemed like days. The current floated him along as the agony ebbed deeper and deeper into his heart. Once he could finally sit up, he looked over the edge at his reflection. The skin on his face was still healing. One of his eyes and a chunk of his hair was now white.


I should have died out on the sea after that. Just another time I should have died. But I didn't. I survived. I kept drifting.


The boat shook violently, waking him up. He opened his eyes and saw something in the distance. Getting to his feet, he saw destruction rain down upon the land. What was happening? What was causing it?


An eerie calm came over him as he realized that this might be the end of the world as he knew it. There was some sort of figure he could barely make out in the distance. Garryson grabbed a jug of rum and slowly raised it up to the figure. Keeping a solemn expression, he kept the jug held out in honor of it for a few long minutes before taking a long drink. A shockwave sent him flying off the boat. He felt the cold water then there was nothing but blackness.


Back then... I wanted the world to end. I wanted everyone to lose what had made them smile. I wanted everyone to be like me. But despite myself... I survived. I found yet another life.


His eyes slowly opened. He heard water, and tasted salt in his mouth. Taking a while to gather his strength, he pulled himself up enough to look around. It seemed he was on a small fishing vessel. Sitting on a small crate smoking a pipe was a gruff looking Highlander man.


"Did... did you save me...?" Garryson asked, coughing up some water. The man merely gave him a small nod. For some reason, Garryson asked, "Why...?"


The man seemed to consider that himself. Plumes of smoke danced in the air as he thought about it. Finally in a low, somewhat raspy voice he answered, "Because... you look a little like what my son would have looked at your age... had he gotten the chance."


Garryson frowned as he realized what that meant. This man had lost his son. Garryson had lost everyone else... but he had never lost a son. The thoughts of how painful that would be dominated his mind until he passed out once again.


The days of my smiling adventures were over. I was about to learn the uncomfortable truth of what it takes to be a man. Those were the most miserable days of my life. I was constantly afraid and in pain.


But... I am glad that they happened. I would never want to re-experience my days with him but... I learned things I could not have learned any other way.


Garryson's hand slowly slid along the grip of the helm. So many happy memories. So many painful ones. All of them making him who he was.


Whether we choose for it to or not... time keeps moving forward. The world changes. There is no stopping, no turning back. Once we accept it... Once we flow with the ebb of time... That is when we gain control.

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Awesome story! I wish I could think of a story like that.... all of you guys are making me jealous!


Hopefully one day though... a guy can dream can't he?


Haha, you'll get there if you want to. My stories have gone through a lot of trial and error. My first drafts are usually like "And, uh... he was strong. Like real strong. lolhax. And all the ladies liked his style."

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The stars were beginning to fade. Garryson knew the sun would be up soon. Working quietly, he got the lifeboat ready to go. It was always so quiet in the morning. The air was crisp and fresh.


All I've ever done is run away. No one could ever count on me. But little by little... I grew up. I learned what it meant to be a man. What it took to live in this world.


After that man had saved me, I started to follow him around. Neither of us could explain why, but... he taught me things. Most of the time in the most uncomfortable ways possible.


He would go into a town, run up a huge tab on booze and women, and then leave me to work his debts off. I can't remember how many jobs I worked, but it taught me the value of gil, and what it meant to work hard.


The old man hardly ever taught me direct lessons. He would just put me in a situation and expected me to learn something from it. But there was one time... it was different. I don't know why it happened, or why it happened when it did. But its a lesson I could never forget.


"I-I-I'm c-c-c-cold!" Garryson exclaimed as loud as he could, his arms hugging his bare chest.


The old Highlander stood stoically a midst the blizzard they had traveled into. Snow was the only thing visible in every direction. He too was shirtless and smoking on a pipe. The worn looking man looked over to the shivering, skinny teenager.


"Because you allow yourself to be so. The weather has no effect on you."


"That d-d-doesn't even m-... m-make any sense!"


He waded through to snow to get closer to Garryson. "Because you make excuses to give up! If anything is uncomfortable or painful you let yourself quit! You take in every single thing around you and let it weigh you down. Stop blaming the world for who you are... It is your blame alone."


Garryson bowed his head to hide the snarl on his face. Those words stung deeper than any wound he had received, but he was beginning to realize that he was right. All his life he had let outside influence bring him down.


"H-how..." Garryson looked up pleadingly. "How do I stop?!"


"You get up." the old man growled in response. "As long as you can keep getting on your feet... no failure is too great. You try again. Until the world can no longer effect you... that is when you begin to effect the world." He knelt down to meet eye to eye with the boy. "... Never stop moving. There is no stopping in this life. Time will always move forward. Keep moving. Don't get left behind."


The old man stood up and looked down at Garryson. "You always talk about being a hero... So what are you waiting for? Get up. The world is waiting for you."


Once he had finished talking, the old man walked away, disappearing into the snowfall. Garryson let warm tears sting his eyes. His body wanted to just lay down and fade away. With a low growl, he fought the urge. The noise became louder and louder. He forced his muscles to respond, to obey. With a defiant howl, Garryson got to his feet. His body felt warmer, his resolution more solid.


He looked around to see where the man had gone. There was no sign of him. Garryson stood in the snow for a long time, waiting to see if he would come back. Finally a laugh escaped him. He always found himself waiting on something. There was no more reason to wait. Taking a deep breath, he pushed forward through the snow.


That was the last time I saw him. He would always disappear for a while, but then he'd always come back. Its been about three years since that night. I have no idea if I'll ever see him again.


Garryson lowered the boat into the water. It wasn't going to be long before he was finally back. He didn't know whether to be scared or excited. As he rowed away, he watched the old torn up ship slowly sink into the water. Pain filled his chest as he remembered the night the Defiance sank, and all that he had lost.


He continued to move forward. There was nothing for him in the past. The stars were all gone now, replaced with the early morning light. With each row of the paddles, the sun grew brighter and brighter.


This is the story of a boy. A boy who feared the world, and everyone in it. It was a long journey to see the world through unclouded eyes. There are scars and pain that have yet to fully heal. Though this is the end...


The distant shape of Limsa Lominsa steadily grew bigger and bigger on the horizon. A grin grew across Garryson's face.


The ending of a story about a boy is merely the beginning of a story about a man. There will always be another story to tell. There is no beginning or end; time continues to create more experience for those that live in this world.


Listen to my story. It is about a man who will change the world. I wonder how the story will end...

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