to laugh forever,
and cry no more!
It was a quiet evening for a forest that had birds chirping and beasts roaring to hunt all the time. Sitting under a shady tree at the edge of the forest was a 20-year-old boy, draped in a brown hooded cloak, lost in his thoughts. His expressions were concealed by his monotonous smile, but upon closer look, his brown eyes gave away a touch of emotion. His bangs presented enough proof of lack of care for looks, even if they framed his face nicely. Fair-skinned and standing tall at 183 cm, he was slightly slim for his age.
His deep thoughts were interrupted by the whimpering of a deer that had barely survived the hunt of a beast. It was at times like these that he despised fate. The weak were left at its mercy as it laughed at their misery. But time had taught him that if you were determined enough, even fate had to bend to your will.
As he went back to thoughts of his past, he couldn't help but recall one specific memory. O how he wished he thought before speaking, for he never knew what words might come true and haunt him.
It was just another evening, and a 13-year-old was lying on the ground, his head resting on his mother's lap, who was tending to his wounds. As Ma applied ointment, he began to laugh in pain. She looked at him in wonder, and he answered by saying, 'I laugh whenever I feel pain.' Ma smiled.
He did not know that the words he had spoken so carelessly would eventually determine the course of his life and seal his fate. So powerful were his words that the whole world seemed to have stopped for a moment. It looked at him in disbelief and laughed. God laughed too. For He knew that the boy would be laughing throughout his life, and he'd laugh by heart. It would result from his heart.
Sometimes, he really hated himself for being himself. Everybody has their share of troubles; his Ma had told him. But he wondered if his troubles either liked him too much or hated him. Fate played its game with him, and all he ever did was laugh at its face, or perhaps it was all that he could do. It was a dice, and he lacked luck. He blocked these thoughts, for thoughts were tiresome.
As he got up, he dusted off his cloak, which now revealed a black high-collared shirt and black pants underneath. He then ran his hand through his hair to settle his bangs. He touched the hilt of his sword and felt the coldness of metal. But life was colder yet funny, he mused. At least, there was something to laugh at.
He looked at the sun, and there it was again, that dreadful setting sun that followed him like bad luck. He had bad memories of it. But despite his disdain for it, he had to admit that it always looked beautiful and held an air of calmness and quiet, the way he liked. He really did hate the setting sun, but it was crawling its way to his heart. He realized that he wasn't alone. He had his path and the dreadful setting sun.
It was time to go, he wondered. So, he slowly started on his course, with a setting sun in the background and fate on his tail.
The tale was all set for the sail.