This is a drabble-y piece of horrid anecdote loosely based off of a conversation that took place in an online MUD game between me and my ‘brother’ (only online, not actually). Imagination was utilized to fill in the gaps with observations and actions.
“Renn, am I foolish?”
A silence. A young man, 22 years old, lifted the wide brim of his blue velvet hat from where it lay, shielding his eyes from the afternoon sun, which filtered through the leaves of the lakeside willow tree in spotted patches. Taking off the hat, he raked a hand through his short auburn hair and stared in bewilderment at the man sitting next to him.
“…Pardon? Edward, is the heat getting to your head already? Come sit over in the shade before you lose all your eloquence.”
The other young man, a few years younger than the first, quirked an eyebrow at the words. He chuckled and took out some oranges from his pack, tossing one to the man next to him.“It’s no heat, my dear brother, which prompted my question.”
“Then it’s just stupidity, and I refuse to be related by blood to such ‘foolishness’. What brought this on, Edward? Has citizenship been treating you unkindly? Did you fail to secure your lofty ambitions of political success? My god, please- stop acting like a spoilt brat. I will not babysit you.”
Edward looked at his brother, who waved the butterflies away with his blue hat, the silver plume waving gracefully in the air. A politician and a fishing bard. “We are certainly a dysfunctional family, Renn.”“Hm? You don’t say?” A yawn. Renn shook his feathery auburn bangs out of his face to properly aim a sarcastic glare at his brother. He juggled a few oranges, looking quite blase. However, inside, he could be thinking anything. “If you’re referring to ‘that’, I can tell you, that is no foolishness. Merely courage.”
Edward watched the oranges tumble midair, contrasting with the pure blue of the sky. He peeled his own orange, popping a slice into his mouth. As he savoured the tangy sweetness of the fruit, he mulled over his brother’s words.
“Isn’t that the irony, Renn? If I succeed, I will forever be remembered as courageous. If I fail, I will forever be remembered as foolish.”
“Your situation is like this orange.” Renn tossed one in midair and caught it with his hat, rolling it around the brim. “If you eat the rind, of course it tastes horrible. Eat it properly, and it’s heaven with pulp.”
“…That made absolutely no sense.”
“It makes perfect sense! The moral of the story is, it all depends on how you go about it.”
Edward shot his brother a disgusted look. “I didn’t need you to tell me that!”
“Well, you deserve useless advice for coming to a wandering bard for political instruction, you dolt. Who do you take me for? Machiavelli? I can’t even bear to set foot in the city-states, much less ponder how they are governed. In fact, I’m surprised I haven’t been banned from any for breaking some and some law. ” Renn shrugged at the disgruntled Edward, resuming his orange juggling.
“But you wrote that beautiful article spurring on the Ashtanians during the war with Shallam!”
“Oh, I can’t take credit for that. That was in a spur of influence by the American Declaration of Independence. It reeks of Thomas Jefferson.”
“Careful Juliet or any other deity doesn’t punish you for such blasphemous words. ‘American’? ‘Thomas Jefferson’? You know how dangerous it is to utter such things.”
Sighing, Renn chucked a orange into the lake, watching it bob up and down before being snatched into the water by the lake’s resident monster. He turned with weary amber eyes to regard his brother, whose pale blue eyes, seeming almost grey, returned the stare with somber maturity.
“Good god, Edward. Learn to smile a bit more! You look 40, not 20. I look years younger than you. You’ll be bald before you know it.”
“Says the dandy.”
“Dandy!” Renn exclaimed, dramatically affronted. “You’re one to talk. It’s no bad thing. It runs in the family, you should know. Watch you walk into a room, ruffling those feathers- I know what you do. I do it too. Saunter, pose, smirk, stride, etc, etc.”
“We are both quite doomed, aren’t we?”
Renn watched a crane stalk by, pecking at a orange peel. A new adventurer ran by, chasing a butterfly. The two brothers watched the youngster become increasingly frustrated by the teasing butterfly, and finally whip out a shortsword, impaling the butterfly in his anger. Renn blinked and let out a low sigh.
“Yes. Indeed we are. Which is why, we should completely enjoy the time we have, before the civilized conversation is replaced by profane gossip and the race of sophistication achieves extinction.”
-END-
For me, it was quite a poignant conversation and I decided it was worthy of sharing, so I hope the readers do gain something out of it. It was pure roleplay. I’m not really a dandy. I think. I hope. (Yet.)
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