Pursuing a Dream

It was Fentuary, the seemly endless plains were scorching, almost burning, under the sun. The final crops of that year were being picked by dozens of farmers. «Not more» he thought. «Not much time until I will do this no more», he muttered to himself. It was only one day, one afternoon, until he will be finally free.

«Ow!», he said loudly, as a wasp stung his finger.

«Have you said anything, young boy!?» yelled a man «Back to work! NOW!»

It was Ackley, the farmer in charge on his wheat field and, by mere coincidence, his guardian since his parents died, when he was only five years old. Ackley was a mean old man, always picking on him, forcing him to work all day, sometimes even beating him up or locking him on a shed, giving him garbage food to eat, that is, luckily a soggy bread with dusty cheese... He hated him, since the day he started being his guardian, and he dreamed all his life of this day.

After picking some dozens of bails of wheat, he looked at the sun. It was of an warm orange, it felt nice, maybe not because of the colour or the heat itself, but from what it will mean, when it will be completely set: Freedom. Escape. Life.

He hid himself in a shed nearby. He closed the doors, so Ackley couldn't find him. He put himself comfortable, leaned back his head, and peacefully started to sleep...

It was a cold day of Wintumber. Not just any day, it was Christmas day. He was five years old. All his family was together to have the Christmas dinner. The turkey was delicious, his house was beautifully decorated, and he still remembered the day he spent with his friends and family, in the snow fields nearby. Even the Draynor Manor was covered in a thick layer of snow. His mother has made the dinner and invited the all the family. Cousins, uncles and aunts, grandfathers and grandmothers, everyone was apparently enjoying themselves. Then someone knocked at the door. Everybody stood still.

«Who is out there!» his father said.

No answer was given. Only a faint breeze could be heard, air gushing slightly from an open window. Everybody was tense.

«I asked! Who is it!»

Again, no answer. The breeze was getting colder.

His father stood and walked to the door. The breeze was getting even colder and it was gushing with more and more force through the window. His father took a deep breath and opened the door...

He suddenly woke up. He was breathing fast and he was sweating heavily. He knew it. «No» he said. He only didn't want to face it. «No! Never!». He was absolutely out of himself, of anger, of rage. «NO!» he cried, helplessly. He cried for a while, alone, without even a shoulder to cry on. The shoulder they took him away, in that night, in that moment. He felt alone, alone in this world. Alone in this world where only the strong and united stand proudly, over the devastation. Only united we can stand, yet, there he was, alone, helpless, on the floor of a shed. He only saw devastation and misery in his future, where he couldn't even count on Ackley's bread. But no, he refused to continue on that way. He already decided. As soon as he reached majority, on that year, in that month, in that day, tomorrow; he will depart immediately to Varrock, the Land of Opportunities. His cousin keeps on sending him letters, telling him how life is great in Varrock, how life was still great in Varrock after the Crash, how life was still even then great in Varrock after the Sea Life Invasion... «That's it», he said to himself. It's time for a new beginning. It's time for renovating. It's time to live!

«So this is it...» said a female voice.

«Yeah, it seems so», he said.

The breeze of the last Draynor summer he would ever witness in his life was especially warm and relaxing that day. He cleaned a tear drop from the edge of the eye, remembering the good times he spent fleeing from Ackley, knowing that those times would never come again. He was going to leave and he would never come back. I was with a mix of joy and sadness that he continued carrying his stuff to the carriage.

«Look, I'm sorry, but you know this ain't no life for me.» he started. «A fastidious life in a fastidious farmland destroyed by two consecutive disasters..., while people in Varrock, people like my cousin, live a great life! And on the top of this, I have to put up with Ackley! No way!» he said with rage

«Well... I understand you.» Michelle said «But you can't just leave everything behind.»

«Do I actually ever had anything?» he said sadly.

She had no answer.

«Sorry, but I really have to.» he said.

«I understand, yes, I do.» she sighed. «Maybe I'll come visit you at Varrock sometime.»

They looked each other for a moment, until Michelle started to cry.

«I'll miss you.» she said while hugging him «I'll really do»

«I know, Michelle, I know» he said, trying to relieve her, even though we knew he wasn't good at that

«Well, this is really it.» she said, releasing him

«Yes.»

«Well then, goodbye.»

«Bye, Michelle.» he said while waving at her.

«Oh!, and uh, Happy Birthday!» she said joyfully.

The carriage started to move slowly through the degraded road, as the night fell over them, near the border between Misthalin and Arsgania. The driver whipped the horses, and the compartment shook it gained more speed. Along with him were other six people: a young man, tall, with a small goatee, a man and a woman, seemly husband and wife, carrying a small baby with them, a dwarf, dirt all over him, with a small iron pickaxe in his waist, and a peculiar old man.

«So... Where are you going?» the young man asked.

«We-

«We're going to Varrock.» said the man, cutting off his wife «To hopefully give a better future to our little daughter.»

The man who first talked nodded with his head. «Yes... I'm afraid you are going to be very disappointed.»

«Why so?» asked the father.

«Varrock isn't the land of opportunities, as everybody says. That's what King Roald tries to make the people believe, through his propaganda. The reality is worse. Half of the city is crime infested, the other half is occupied by decadent aristocracy. It's a shame people have been droved to that city this way.»

«I can't believe. Varrock is so rich! Work and job are abundant, money is easy to get-

«No...! The reality is worse. Two thirds of people in Varrock are unemployed, many other are homeless, and only a select few possess all of the riches that everyone in that wonderful city used to have.»

«That isn't possible! Look son, we spent the last four years planning this journey, and two weeks travelling from Kandarin. Yanille. Do you know how far that place is? We've left friends and even family behind, we sold our house, all to pursue the wealth in Varrock, away from the misery that struck the world, two consecutive times. Do you think we'll leave everything behind because of what says some guy!?»

«Do what you want. When you get there, you'll see.» said the man, with apathy.

«And you, where are you from?» said the other.

«Jason Smith. Varrock. That's why I am telling you that. Believe me.»

«I don't care. Screw you.» said the man

<<+>>

«I'm from Keldagrim.» said the dwarf. «I'm from the administration of the Ore section of the Purple Pewter mining corporation.»

«Oh...» the woman said, surprised «And may I know what are you going to do in Varrock?»

«Noting special. I be negotiating the concession of the Varrock mines. Ours go almost completely destroyed by the floods. The river Kelda got impassable, 30% of the buildings in Keldagrim got destroyed, thousands of lives were lost, and...» the dwarf seemed to have difficulty in speaking. He lowered his face for a while, and when he raised his head, his face was covered in tears. «They killed my wife! They took her away, they took her bellow the waves of the river! A huge shark ravaged down our house, water came in, the shark bit down her leg, and...» the dwarf was now covered in tears, «They drowned her under the waters. And... I couldn't have helped her. I... I couldn't, I...»

«I know.» said the old man, calmly. «I am so sorry.»

«First time ever I see a dwarf crying.» muttered the woman to his husband. The old man looked at her in a meaningful way. The woman buried herself down in the chair again.

«And you? How about you, my friend?» asked somebody, which he later recognized as being the old timer which was sitting on the corner,

«Me? I am nothing. I am just somebody. Somebody angered by life. And now, I'm going to pursue a dream, in Varrock.» «Finally...» he added to himself.

«Pursue a dream?» suddenly turned the younger of the travellers. «Still, pursuing a dream?»

«What? You have anything against?»

«Well, I've talked about this. I am just warning. I am warning you. I-

«Stop that crap talk. I am going, all these people are going, we are not going to quit because of somebody who thinks he's the boss or-

«Hey, hey, what are you trying to say, I-

«No, you! What are you trying to say to me. Nobody is quitting his dream because some random guy says so.»

«The random guy is someone that just has a job as a Grand Exchange Clerk because he is cousin of the uncle of the son of the aunt of one of the Fitzharmon family.» «And yes, I am serious», Joe said, when Gregory was going to preparing to argue back. «Sorry, but this is reality. You can still live in the dream. That's your choice.»

Everybody was quiet, in their places. After that argument, nobody dared even looking at each other. The