Long, long ago, a great depression settled over the land. Word spread that the lands were drying up and crops were dying. The people were becoming anxious and scared. During this time, a man wandered from town to town. He was a strange man with eyes like glass, so clear you could almost see his thoughts.
He was a quiet soul, offered friendly smiles, but said few words. It was said that he brought good luck to the places he visited. By the time he’d depart, the crops would grow and produce more than ever. The vegetation would be greener, the people happier.
He was always welcomed with opened arms to the places he visited. So happy were the people to see him, that they showered him with beautiful gifts and delicious foods. The villagers were afraid that if they made him unhappy, their town would surely die. But he was a humble man, and he would always respectfully turn down the offerings. And as soon as he had arrived, he would leave, and the village would flourish.
Arryn ran her fingers over the worn leather cover, looking the journal over carefully before opening it again. The words were written in beautiful elegant calligraphy. Years of dedication and practice apparent with each stroke in the fading black ink. She had read it at least a dozen times, always finding herself lost in the stories for sometimes hours at a time.
"What'ch ya readin'?"
She snapped the book shut and stood up, "Grandma's journal." She said, holding the book up to the boy before her.
He looked back at her blankly, his eyes the color of the wooden floor beneath their feet. He made no attempt at taking the book, "Oh," He said softly, running a hand through messy blonde hair, "She was crazy."
"Adam!" Arryn chided, her eyebrows drawing together.
"What?" Adam bit back, "It's true, you know it!"
Arryn sighed, cradling the book to her chest, "She had her moments. You didn’t know her like I did though..." Her voice trailed off sadly.
Adam's hands opened and closed at his sides, he stepped back, the floorboards creaking under his feet, "Well... uhm... Mom just wanted me to tell you that dinner was ready." He turned fluidly, disappearing out the bedroom door. Arryn looked at the journal once more, before setting it down on her desk. Carefully she opened it to where she left off.
I was twenty the first time I saw him.