A Boy's Tale...

There was once this kid, who had to leave his homeland. He was forced to leave, in some way. He left to go into a journey that led him far beyond the seas.
He went to a new land. Where the sun raised earlier, and the rain used to fall more often, and lasted longer. A land where he met loneliness at it's maximum expression. A place darker than outer space, despite the sunrise. A land where he found new friends to shine life with, to share joy with, to enjoy life with...yet, loneliness was there, deep inside him. Hiding in his doorway, always waiting the moment he closed the door to strike him as an arrow.
And his gaze became grey, like the sky in the rainy nights. Like haunted by the sorrow of all that he has left behind. But some times, in order to achieve our dreams we must let go of somethings, even what we want the most.
Even those we care the most.
How far one must go, it depends only on how bad we want that dream to become true. So he did. In a very special way, he was a monstrous creature. He gave up valuable things, just to achieve what he wanted the most. He would not let anything to stand between his dream an his path. Anything, nor anyone.
So he was there, alone and all on his own, in a new place yet he had friends. Good ones. Yet he felt some times alone. Missing those left behind, he some times sought company, and some times he merged in the crowd just to feel the human warmth else than his own. He sought to be with his friends, and their families; not because he felt part of them, but because the mere scent of family made him remember his own kind, his own people.
And that felt good. It was something he missed, and it hurt having to leave them. His family. His closest friends, friends not only of his own kind but from many species. They were all part of the same.
A family. His family.
But he would see them again. Time shall tell. But that was something he was sure of. But there was one above everyone else he missed the most. One whose name was forbidden to the wind. That one was like a paradox. The source of inspiration and despair.
Like hope. Hope is the quintessential human delusion, simultaneously the source of our greatest strength and our greatest weakness. And so was for him, even the slightest thought was lethal, and, at the same time, comforting.
And the kid, far from home, found that what matters in the end, is not what you have, nor where you belong, but what you really are. He came to this conclusion only after finding beneath his own self the courage and the will to do what he had to. The spells and charms, he knew them all, only the power to call them, to cast them was needed. And he found it. He became a hero. He became a story worth telling.
So he lived his life one day at the time, but always taking care of the future, thinking, planning. And of course, keeping in mind the past. For a man's path lies beyond tomorrow, but the background cannot be denied.
And the history became legend. And the legend became myth. But no one now lives to remember it.
His name? He has had many names. Ancient names only the wind and the trees can spell...