The Wandering Traveler

            The rustle of leaves shaking in the pleasant breeze; the splashing of narrow streams flowing downhill; the chirping of birds perched on all levels of tree branches. All of these sounds flowed melodiously together, as if they were performing an orchestral piece for a large audience. However, such a large audience did not exist; instead, there was only one listener: a young girl who was quietly traversing through the forest of music.

            The girl, who went by the name of Rose, was a wandering traveler, never stopping anywhere for more than a day or two; she crossed lands, sailed seas, and climbed mountains day after day. Her nomadic tendencies garnered Rose more attention than she ever desired. People all over knew her as the girl who could never stand still. Many admired her for her bravery and perseverance as they pictured a lone girl traveling through the unknown wilderness, facing who knows what dangers that await out there. However, there were also many who deprecated Rose’s actions, calling them foolish and idiotic. Of course, this view made sense; nature was always unpredictable and no one could ever be completely certain about what would happen.

            “So?” Rose simply answered when a young boy from the tiny village of Sanemisa (who had stopped her as she moved to leave the village) brought up such dangers.

            Puzzled, the little boy continued with his questions in order to satiate his curiosity. “Aren’t you scared? You could die.” There was a pause from the boy as he waited for a response, but Rose only stared blankly as she felt no need to answer, which pushed the boy to continue. “My dad says it’s stupid to do things that will just kill you. He says you’re stupid for doing that.”

            A twinkle formed in Rose’s eyes, which seemed to stare past the village boundaries and into the vast, cloudless, blue sky.

            “Are you looking at the sky?” the boy asked. “There aren’t any funny clouds though.”

            “Mm, true. But even on a cloudless day, I can still see the raging seas smashing down on the active volcano on the island of Allaca; I can see the endless mountains and sheets of ice and snow far, far, far down south; I can see a small oasis with a lone tree and a pitifully small water hole that makes the whole world suddenly feel like heaven; I can see—”

            “Where? Where?” the boy interrupted Rose as he strained his eyes, squinting until his eyes were no larger than the thickness of a piece of paper.

            With a sigh, Rose turned the boy’s head to face her as she used her other hand to point at her own head. “Right here.” She tapped her head thrice. “In my memory.”

            It took some time for the boy to realize what she meant. “You’ve seen those places? In person? With your own eyes? Alla-whatnot, the mountains of ice, the angry ocean, the lonely tree, you’ve seen all of that?” the boy asked in disbelief.

            With an adventurous grin, Rose asked, “Isn’t it just unbelievable?” A bursting smile—so wide it could have spread beyond his face had the laws of the world allowed it—answered back.

            “Hey, hey! Do you think I can go see these things too?” the boy asked as Rose moved to leave the village as she originally intended to.

            Rose stopped once more. “If you really want something, you’ll do anything to get it. But,” The wandering traveler looked back with a mysterious smile, “just a quick warning.”

            “Once you start, you’ll never be able to stop.”