Whims of a Traveling Bard - Personal Game Writing Project
- This is my own writing for a personal game project I am working on. This is intended for a story-driven action RPG, and in this passage, a traveling bard is giving advice to the main character who feels lost in her identity, after certain recent events have transpired. The relative regions the bard refers to are ones where he is uniquely able to travel to each, though these regions are adversarial and travel is blocked for regular citizens.
"Few things are more romanticized than the life of a nomad. But in reality, people assume that because I leave their company, I no longer care about them, or that my feelings for others can never be as deep as theirs, because they would never leave the ones they love. Nothing could be further than the truth. Can they not imagine what it would feel like to feel exactly as they do, yet still find yourself on these long-winded journeys? I feel excruciatingly lonely at times. I want to be loved, and held, I want stability and I want someone to love me, and I them, and to be able to see them every day. And it hurts even more when I think back to the person I did love. It was mutual, but the wind still called me away. They couldn't see the possibility of joining me.
It's hard to explain. Anyone who hasn't traveled never really understands. And even travelers who gather the resolve to settle, I can see the pull wasn't as strong for them--The urge to discover or see a familiar thing from every angle possible. You realize that everyone's opinion on every single topic have a fundamental wrongness about them. I've seen love, care, and evil from every side of any conflict you can imagine. I'm part of a troupe, sure, but more than anything in our travels you find that every empire and every group is made up of individuals who deserve to be loved. I have a friend here who I know would get along with another friend of mine, they are completely alike, but they would hear naught but that I’m sympathetic to the betrayers. So I cut a piece of my life off when I talk to them. I have another friend desperate for love, I've known him my whole life and I know for a fact that another friend of mine, Sarah, is indeed everything he's ever wanted in a person. I got to know her well in the months we were in her area. But this area, of course, was in the empire. He's so lonely, and they would make each other so happy, but he himself would label me a traitor if I even told him I knew her. So I watch him be lonely, I convey empty platitudes, and they tell me I know nothing of his real pain.
For me, the bond I share with others doesn't wane with time. If you are not in my company for 5 years, the next time I see you I will treat you the same as the last time I saw you. I'll be so excited to see you again. But for most others, they are offended at my lack of contact. With one of my close friends, it was as if they mourned my passing years ago and had moved on. They wouldn't give me the light of day, barely a hello before they scampered off. I had brought gifts just for her, too, at that time.
To each his own, I suppose. It hurts, but I see why they feel that way. Their home is their world. Their mind only goes as far as the entrance to their town. But I was born with a mind bereft of boundaries. It sees the horizon and demands to know what's on the other side of it. In a profession that hinges upon us creating beautiful music and profound words, I don't know if I'll ever be able to describe everything I've seen. But there's two halves to understanding, of course, and the one question that forever lingers in my mind as a performer is if I can make someone understand something when they have no context for understanding it. I can speak beautifully, but will I ever be able to speak a framework that allows a listener to fully comprehend the beauty of what I'm trying to convey?
Actually, this is why I've come back here, to human lands. When I feel bouts of depression, longing, sadness, acute loneliness...you humans know just the trick. In most of the world if you speak of any of this you'll get laughed at for being weak, but humans not only believe me, but relate to exactly what I'm talking about and how to fix it. It is a sickness that only exists in my heart and mind, but I am treated with full seriousness here. Everyone knows time can heal such wounds, but humans have a way creating a space of love and caring, different for each person, but perfect for them all the same. It makes it feel like that time to heal is accelerated somehow. And still...you know. You know they can't truly understand the exact anguish you're going through, but they listen. Humans are so present. I know you can't know what I'm going through, but somehow feel that you do. I can feel you understand when I also know you don't know the full context, and I find that fascinating. I hope to be able to learn to do that as well in my time here. It feels like empathy, but also something else. You always defer to my authority over my own identity. You never doubt my experience. Your ability to know what you don't know...that's what I'm missing in my poetry."
​