Cursed Odyssey

Joseph took a moment, his crimson eyes flickering as he processed Baro's sudden raw unfiltered emotions. It wasn't sadness he felt, but a strange understanding, a resonance with the echoes of her pain. He didn't rush to comfort, or offer platitudes. He wasn't one for empty words. Instead, he carefully considered each syllable, each breath, like comforting a little sister.

"You've got it all wrong… I… the reason why I can still smile and move forward was because I've long come to terms with my own death, the absurdity of my situation here. I know no one in this village, it is not my home. I have no roots, no attachments. If this were my home, and if I were scorned by my own people…if I had a family or a history to lose, my reaction would have been different. What's the point in crying for me now? I would be soon sacrificed anyways… It's not as much that I am strong, but more that I am simply hiding from the problem and pretending it didn't matter… You think too highly of me, I am nothing but a coward… It is you who is truely strong… Baro… After all, you have still not given up, have you? If you had, you wouldn't have gone out of your way to seak me… Would you?"

Baro sat, her red-rimmed amber eyes wide, staring at Joseph as though he were a new constellation in the night sky. The wind outside whispered through the cracks in the walls. Her sobs seemed to halt for but an instant, as she seemed lost in thought and lost for words.

"But still, that is no excuse to ever give up!" He scratched his head, "How do I best explain this to you…" He thought out loud, then after a momentary pause, he finally spoke.

"Imagine life as an embroidered tapestry. Each thread a moment, a feeling, a choice. Some threads are bright and beautiful, filled with laughter and warmth. Others are dark, tangled with pain and despair. There may be patches where the pattern is confusing, the colours dull, and the knots heavy. There will even be spaces where it is entirely black. It may seem chaotic and meaningless when you look up close, but when you look at the larger tapestry, and all the work of every thread woven together, you start to see the grand design, the purpose of it all. Even the ones that seem useless on the surface have meaning, for what is the tapestry but the collection of every thread? And what is life but the collection of everything that has happened up to this point?"

He took a deep breath and looked intently into her eyes.

"It is okay to feel despair, it is okay to feel lost, to feel broken. But there is always a way out. You are dwelling on the ugly black threads, forgetting the grey ones beside them, the white ones that still shine. We are not slaves to fate. We are the weavers of our own tapestry. The threads may fray, and the colours may fade, but the tapestry continues, even after death. You continue. And one day, you will look back and see the beautiful design you've created at the end of your life. Live so your threads leave a lasting impact, that they are not forgotten, that you have no regrets… Even if your threads are all black, filled with pain… Perhaps to others, those black threads would be the brightest light… It is all a matter of perspective, and for me, that is enough…"

Baro's eyes glistened with unshed tears. She exhaled shakily. "So... I just have to look at the bigger picture." Her voice barely whispered. "Like what? What did I miss?"

Joseph tilted his head, considering carefully. "Have you tried reaching out for help? Your uncle, perhaps? I know your relationship isn't great, but sometimes help comes from unlikely places."

Baro's gaze dropped to her hands, fingers tracing the wooden box's edge. "No... I haven't. I'm just too scared." She admitted defeat. "He never cared for me before, so it'd be pointless telling him about this now."

Joseph nodded. "What about the village leaders? The village elder has an artifact that detects lies. Even if masked, if he questions every villager one by one, they'd be found out. Report them—they'll be punished."

Conflict washed over Baro's face, her scaled brow furrowing. "Would the village elders even bother questioning everyone for someone like me? And even if they did..." She hesitated. "Do I really want to cause others pain? Is revenge really the answer? Would it make me feel better?"

Joseph's gaze hardened, his gentle tone shifting to firm authority. "Baro, you're too naive. This isn't revenge—it's retribution for evil! They must be punished. This is justice!" His voice carried steel. "It's not about feeling better or worse. It prevents future victims. Do you want someone else to suffer as you have?"

Baro's eyes widened, lost in conflicted thought. "Sinful? But am I any less sinful than them? Seeking out and befriending the cursed outsider..." She laughed bitterly, looking down.

Joseph turned to face her directly. He placed his hand on her forehead, lifting her chin to stare into her soul. "Do I look cursed to you? What pain have I caused others? There's an entire world out there with millions of people! Do you truly think no good souls exist outside this village?" His eyes burned with conviction. "Sometimes it's best to use your own brain and reach your own conclusions, instead of letting others feed you theirs."

Baro paused, her gaze searching his features as thoughts wrestled with his words. She shifted nervously before finally answering. "No." The word barely registered. "You never looked cursed to me. If anything, I thought your pale skin and white hair made you look angelic... just as our ancestors were described."

Joseph couldn't help but chuckle, a genuine smile spreading across his face. He stepped back, giving them space again.

"First time I've ever heard that! Thank you!" His eyes crinkled at the corners. "And using my own brain, I see you as nothing more than an ordinary girl. Maybe a bit odd, with... interesting hobbies, but I like that!"

A genuine smile, soft and tentative, played on Baro's tear-stained lips. "Is... is that so..." she whispered. "Joseph... I'm glad your threads entered my tapestry. They're the brightest threads I've ever seen."

Joseph smiled warmly. "Likewise! From now on, know you're not alone. We can navigate through this together. Maybe we can even mend the divide between humans and zots, just as you wanted."

From the corner, the guard observed their exchange. He caught hints of truth mixed with blasphemy, but couldn't suppress a smile. Strange happiness, witnessing a lonely child's first true connection—a feeling beyond religion, beyond tradition. Entirely human.

But that smile carried melancholy, knowing this friendship was built to fail. Like a house on faulty foundation, it would soon crumble.

The hearth fire dimmed. Time had slipped by unnoticed, their conversation weaving through the intricate threads of their lives. Joseph's internal clock ticked with precision—time to sleep. After all, they'd wake early to collect deer antlers with Lee and his gang.

Joseph mentioned how Anne's house lay across the entire village, a long distance in the cold night. Baro offered for him to stay. Joseph instinctively looked to the guard for permission and found wordless acceptance.

Baro's small bed looked comically short for her frame, yet she curled into it like a ball. The guard settled into the only chair, ever vigilant. Joseph didn't mind sleeping on wooden planks, wrapped in a small blanket. Clearly, Baro hadn't considered the sleeping arrangements when making her offer, but Joseph didn't mind.

In the darkness, he smiled at the ceiling when a voice reached him from the shadows...

"So... this is the impact you wanted to have on the world?"

Joseph's smile widened. He responded simply:

"Yes... it is."