Thy Blade til Merchant's Morrow

	Well met, is what I would say, but this story is a personal one with much less thought. It tells a poor merchant's tale, a story of deceit that bares only wisdom as an afterthought. An afterthought that teaches a very valuable lesson on the passives of life. But don't get me wrong, 'twas not but the agony of life that caused me to write this plethora of words, rather it was something more crucial. That is, I came to understand the blight of the trade like words a mother beckons her babe to speak. Words not from the mind, but from the gift it has received from the heavens above. Aye, what else could there be besides the mouth?

	The "Mouth", it has this multitudinous of sayings, but even more so when it comes to passing information from words alone, and in trade those words mean everything, at least that is what I was led to believe. I had, dare say, a friend from the trade who was gifted a special talent at being a farce, he was neither a milletian nor someone I could ever truly hate. To this day, I remember his daily words of amusement rather well: "Dear cousin, does thou not seek a man in this forgotten land?", "Is thou falling for me?", "If only but a foreign prince could take mine hand, and have my heart. But alas I have not the request.", "Hail and oh grace to thee, prince of my stars." I dare not tell this man my true feelings, as I could not tell if he was playing the part of the fool or rather he was just extremely cunning.

	I would, however, converse to him all my troubles, my sightings, my deals, and he would just sit there smiling, absorbing the information like a toddler who just received 1,000 gold, wondering how to spend that huge sum. I fell for his very keen openness, and loved just how quickly he would take to my stories involving my traveling trade. There were not many other defining traits besides his personality, but he did carry a sword with him that reflected many years of wear. He would not tell me much about this sword or its history, but I could tell that it carried a very sentiment meaning for him. The way he held and cared for this sword was above any other who wielded a blade. Nevertheless, I felt a deep connection with this young man and the many days I spent with him. And I had hope that those days would continue, at least that was until a fateful day, where I would be the one to solely carry his treasured blade.

- Maike