Settling Down, A "Rune Factory" Fanfiction
Though I say fan fiction, I have no plans to use any of the characters from any of the actual games. That's right; I'm going for (gasp!) ORIGINAL CHARACTERS HERE! Any resemblance to any of the characters or setting in ANY of the Harvest Moon series or any of their spinoffs is completely coincidental.
Don't get me wrong, though, this is still in the spirit of Rune Factory. But that's just it, it's got the spirit of Rune Factory, and not much else. You might see some similar monsters from the series make an appearance, though, and if I feel the need to disclaim those parts I will when I write them.
If I get too much complaining on how it's not really a fic, though, I'll put this up on instead. I just felt it would work better here.
As it stands, this is just me writing for as long as I feel like, so you might not want to get too attached here. This is by NO MEANS my highest priority, and I wouldn't blame you if you just walked off after this.
Still, who knows, it might behoove you to stick around. But for now, let's get into the intro.
It was raining.
It was just the icing on the cake, wasn't it? Bad enough that he had nowhere to go, but now it was like the world around him just didn't want him to be happy again.
Not that it really mattered. He had grown weary of his current state of affairs at least a year ago, if not longer. The rain was pretty much another drop of water in the bucket by this point.
He was tired.
Tired of the constant wandering, the constant danger, the constant surprises. He'd been going through the motions since he was at least eight, and it was a constant weight on his shoulders. Not that it was always bad, of course, not in the slightest. Still, he wanted to have some stability in his life, something that he could rely on being there. He wanted recognition when he actually pulled of an amazing feat. (It's amazing how few people will believe you when you say you killed a dragon without proof). He wanted health, he wanted love, he…
…he wanted a home. Dammit, eighteen-year olds should NOT be having these kinds of thoughts.
He sighed in resignation, though, and shifted the weight of his pack upon his bag. He double checked to make sure what remained of his previous sword was still there (they never lasted) and continued putting one foot in front of the other.
He'd be approaching his supposed destination soon, supposedly. But it didn't matter to him. It would just be another village/town/city full of people whom he would never know. Just another den of strangers, who were at first glad to see him, but only for so long.
The thoughts of people he didn't know brought forth thoughts of some that he did, and few a few moments he was actually allowed a period of happy thoughts, reliving some of the excitement they had over the past few years. A small smile crept to his face, and he temporarily forgot about his unsatisfactory life.
Only temporarily, though, as the rain, which almost seemed to be following his thoughts exclusively, started to downpour, leading our weary traveler to realize he probably should find some sort of shelter before getting soaked to the bone.
Rain can be sadistic like that.
The good news was that there was a shed nearby. The bad news was that "nearby" meant nearly a quarter mile away. By the time he reached his intended shelter, it probably wouldn't have mattered if he had stayed in the rain any longer.
The shed itself was in horrible repair, and was leaking in many spots, but he'd been able to survive in hovels much worse than this. Sighing, he took a seat, and attempted to regain the glory of being dry once more, with all signs pointing to the fact that this wasn't likely to happen.
His thoughts returned to his state of life. Not horrible by any means, yet not what he truly wants. Heh, the grass is always greener, huh? He thought it a bit funny that while everyone else around him wanted more excitement in their lives, he wanted less. Dammit, how could he get out of this circle of adventure? Would the story of his exploits ever end? Would he EVER BE ABLE TO GET A SINGLE MOMENT OF REST WITHOUT HAVING TO THINK ABOUT WHERE HE WOULD BE THE NEXT DAY DAMMIT!
He took out his aggression on the nearby wall, which though in disrepair seemed to take the blow quite well. Afterwards, the wall did something that most walls tend to avoid; it retaliated.
"OW!", our bitter adventurer screamed. Feeling a bit dazed from the sudden blow to the head, he reached for his (broken) sword and turned to face his assailant. After realizing his assailant was a box, he put his not-so-much-of-a-sword away foolishly.
It was getting a bit dark, so he pulled a small lamp from his pack and lit it up. His surroundings came into view, not that they were much to speak of. Most of the shed was empty, save a few empty shelves attached to the wall here and there. The only other thing of notice was an old box in the corner, full of what seemed to be old farming tools.
Heh, farming. No wonder this shed was in disrepair. Still, he had to admit that the shed had a … nostalgic air to it, bringing him back to his childhood days.
But his attention soon turned back to the box that had most likely been on the shelf above where he was sitting. Making sure that there was nothing else up there, he sat back against the wall and opened the smallish container. Inside was a small book, as well as a packet of some sort. Looking inside the packet he found a bunch of what appeared to be seeds. Seeds to what, though, he wasn't sure, as there were no markings indicating what they might be. Shrugging, he put them aside and picked up the book. It was a plain sort of thing, and it really looked like a diary of sorts rather than any sort of novel. Still, it wasn't like he had anything else to do, so he turned to the first page to see what it might be about. The first words on the page didn't stand out. They didn't shine with the brilliance of a thousand angels, nor did a holy trumpet sound when he read them. He didn't really think they were even all that interesting of words, and yet hold his interest they did.
"How to farm"
…Well it isn't like he has anything else going on. Sitting on the floor, his back to the wall, he turned the page.
Oh man oh man did I catch your interest? Will anything actually happen next time? Will our main protagonist ever actually get a name!
Well who knows. I certainly don't. But stick around, I might get in the mood for continuing this thing every once in a while. Just don't expect anything too big to happen at first. This is a story all about going slowly and taking your time, and that includes the plot as well.
As for the next chapter again, who knows. I write when I feel like it, and I haven't felt like it for a long time. Still, gotta admit that it feels kinda nice to be throwing down the words again. See ya next time.