Inside a Nerd's Mind

A Tale of Nowhere

I blinked for a second and suddenly I’m at a moving wooden horse carriage in the middle of nowhere.

“Hey you, you’re finally awake,” the old ragged man said in an upbeat tone while smirking.

“Huh?” I said puzzled.

“Greetings fellow traveler.” greeted the guy in a chaperon and with somewhat a mix of a Southern and Italian accent.

“How be ye on this fine day, lad?” asked the guy with a full-on beard with a Scottish accent.

“Uhmm… I think I’m fine.” I hesitated.

“Oh, yer fine boy-o? You’ve sure seemed ta take a bad fall there.” He asked again.

I didn’t answer as I’m still baffled about what’s happening. Five seconds ago, I was outside my home with Zach and now I’m sitting in a horse carriage with three men on what seems like the Middle Ages.

Sitting opposite to me is a tall pale-skinned slender man wearing a chaperon - which looks like a folded cloth - on his head. His nose is pointed, eyebrows sleek, with a handlebar mustache, and stubble. He is probably a scholar or some sort of educated man by how he carries himself with his posture and outfit and the papyrus scroll that he was holding probably gave it away.

He reached for his pockets and a bag full of gold coins fell. “I’m sorry, sometimes I just get clumsy.” He joked as he was picking it up and putting it back in his pockets. He reached for the full bag beside him and grabbed a bread. He tore it in half and gave it to me. “Are you hungry?” he asked while offering the bread.

I politely nod my head in decline out of fear.

“Where are our manners? Let us introduce ourselves.” said the chaperon guy. “I’m Fendrino. I sell and trade goods. I may not seem much but tell me what you need and I’ll give it to you.” The merchant chuckled.

Sitting next to him was an enormous muscular tall man with a full-on beard and luscious braided hair. He’s probably around 6 feet and eats dumbbells for a living.

“Me name be Gorim. Ya need strength? I'm tha guy ta ask”. The Viking confidently boasted.

Fendrino gazed at the Viking looking unamused with one of his eyebrows up. I thought that he was probably fed up at this point.

“And that’s Ved,” Fendrino stated while pointing at the coachman. The coachman – the person who drives the horse-drawn carriage – is an old man with a torn and mud-stained shirt. What’s surprising is that he doesn’t look that old. He’s buff and still clearly healthy as he can still control the horse with swift and carefree movements. What gave it away was his wrinkled face with a scar on his cheek when he turned to greet me. He seems like a wise and experienced man who has done enough in his own lifetime. I wondered why Fendrino’s introduction of him was so short and simple, maybe it is because there are no words to describe what he might have done in his life.

“Uhhhmm… I – I’m Ethan.” I mumbled.

“Ethan? What kind o' bloody name be that.” The Viking teased.

“Wh – Wher - Where am I?” I wondered.

I took a good look around the surroundings. There’s no single sight of any house nor structures or even a man to where we are except for the three that I am with. We were surrounded by tall trees with dark-skinned and wide trunks. Its branches were long and scattered essentially making the tree like a spider weaving its webs everywhere. Its leaves spanned the whole sky covering most of the rays of the sun. It is as if it could essentially be nighttime. I looked down and I saw massive rocks double the size of my fist, beautiful and precious wildflowers scattered across the dirt ground mixed with mud which tells me that it had rained recently. The cold howling breeze hitting my face as we traverse these woods makes me shrivel and fear for my dear life. All I can see from miles and miles away are nature’s greatest helpers, the trees.

“We’re in the Great Old Woods.” said the merchant.

“Nae one usually comes here. They say these woods be full o' haunted mysteries. Things that ye cannot explain.” gently whispered the Viking.

“Yeah, I hear floating spirits roaming and leprechauns dancing with their pot of gold in these woods.” the merchant sarcastically said.

I laughed amazed at the merchant’s sarcastic wit while the Viking felt unamused.

“So, why take this route then.” I curiously asked.

“They say always take the road less traveled by.” the coachman surprisingly remarked.

“We aren’t afraid of those stories, they’re just mere speculations. Besides, it’s the shorter route and we’re late to a gathering.” the merchant divulged.

“A gathering?” I wondered. “A gathering of what kind?”

“It’s a ga-“ the merchant was about to disclose until the coachman interrupted.

“Perhaps it’s time to take a rest. The boy has been through enough.” the coachman asserted.

It’s already nearing dawn. We can already see the orange ray of the sunset striking through the little holes in the tree’s leaves above us.

The coachman stopped the horse, got down the carriage, and tied it up to a nearby tree.

“Fendrino, help me set up a camp here. Gather some fallen branches, leaves, and some rocks. Gorim, try to find food. Perhaps a boar or a deer. Let’s have a feast for the young boy.

The two nod in agreement and proceeds to do what the coachman asked them to do. I stayed in the carriage while watching them work. The coachman started to gather some branches and big leaves too. From the looks of it, I think he was trying to build a tent. He was tying the branches together with the rope that he brought. This guy was probably a boy scout because of how prepared he is. He then put the leaves on top of the foundation to make a roof. The merchant proceeds to make a fireplace from the branches and leaves that he gathered. Using a hand-made drill and some tinder, he starts a fire. It was satisfying to watch the merchant at work making the fire, it’s unlike any other that I have seen. The sheer complexity of the steps, the tools, and the materials to gather is just enthralling if you contemplate it. In today’s time, we just turn on the stove or use a lighter if we need a fire. But back then, you would have to do all these steps and it’s just inspiring.

While I was staring at the two doing their work, I heard a squeal from the near distant.

“OINKKKKKKK!!” in a high-pitched voice signaling probable danger or even death.

Moments later, I see the Viking with a blood-dripping axe dragging a dead and bloody boar. The Viking was serious while walking, he has this expression on his face that would make you feel like he’s out for murder. I held on to my seat and pushed my body back in response to fear. Suddenly, he ran to the coachman, raised his hunt up, and said “I GOT A BOAR!!!” in a happy and uplifting voice. He was just so happy about the feed he got.

I was so relieved and joyful at the same time as a result of his expression.

Afterward, we were invited to sit beside the fire by the coachman. It was already night. The moon’s white light was above our heads and its rays pierce through the leaves in the skies. It was cold but the breeze was fresh from the trees that surrounded us. The wolves were howling, the horse was sleeping, the crickets were chirping, and the fire was crackling.

It was really quiet at this time of night and at this deep into the forest. I was actually surprised on why the three aren’t that scared of what may creep up on us and haunt us as said in the many stories that the forest creates.

Are ghosts even real? Are we going to be hunted? Or are we going to get killed by something else?

The merchant then grabs a guitar from his bag and started to sing a song, a tale about a family that journeyed through crossing valleys, climbing mountains, and sailing the seas for months and months on end just to kill a dragon and reclaim back their homeland. While the merchant was singing happily, the Viking was also participating in the song while roasting the boar. I have noticed however that the coachman looks so serious and was staring at the fire.

The merchant noticed and halted his singing. He looked at me and asked, “Do you have a family boy?”

“I only have my mother.” I reluctantly said.

“Still, a mother’s love is the purest form of love you will ever experience.” The merchant replied.

“I still remember me momma, I miss my momma. She used ta give me rocks ta play with.” The Viking commented.

“I was young – as young as my mind can see into the past. I don’t remember my mother. All I can remember, is me alone in the street, along with the angry rain and crackling thunder. All I have for my companion is a box that I lay in and the wasted food that people throw.” The merchant gloomily narrated. “I spent my childhood starving and malnourished. There was a time on where the people didn’t give me food anymore no matter how I begged. I resorted to drastic outcomes to survive.” He added. “If you think about it, this is probably why I specialize in this kind of profession.” He chuckled.

“How about you Ethan? How is your mother?” asked the merchant.

“Uhmmm… she’s still alive. We still live in the same house. She still gives me food and cares for me when she can.” I murmured.

“Do ye still love your momma?” The Viking asked.

“I do. But I guess I’m not really that close to her.” I stuttered.

“Why is that?” the merchant asked.

“I spend most of my time in school. And when I’m at home, I spent it in my room. I only go out if I need to eat or if I need to ask her for something.” I mumbled.

The mood turned sorrow immediately. I bowed my head in melancholy and thought of the times that I was truly happy with my mother. There wasn’t much. Most of the time, it’s when she bought me gifts and my wants such as my cellphone and computer. We didn’t really have anything that memorable or that special together. We didn’t travel and we didn’t go on adventures. We spend most of the time together in our living room eating popcorn and watching our favorite series before. I was happy and so was she, I think. That was our favorite get-together and I’m happy it is. But as I grew up, we grew apart. We rarely eat, watch, sleep, or interact with each other. But I do sure wish we can do more.

“We don’t spend that much time together recently. It is as if we’re not family anymore.” I sighed.

I saw the merchant and the Viking's expressions in their eyes as if they were mourning for me.

There was silence for a few seconds. Nobody hasn’t reacted.

Until the coachman spoke. “I still remember my mother. It was the time when the Lord of our town called upon every young and able woman to the castle to be his s*x slave.” He grievingly said.

Both the merchant and the Viking looked at each other and widened their eyes as if they’re in disbelief. I assumed it was the first time they’ve heard of it.

“I and my father led an army of angry men and children into the castle to fight for justice and free our women.” He added. “We roamed through every dungeon, every wing, every floor, every room door-to-door until everyone was free.” He continued.

He let out a sigh and a few seconds of silence afterward.

“Until we got to the last room – it was my mother and my young sister.” He whimpered.

He stopped. I saw a tear dripping from his eyes. He wiped the tear while still holding the stick of boar into the fire.

He looked me into the eyes, stared into my soul, and said “They were naked, both my mother and my young sister. The mad lord was laughing when we entered the room. He grabbed his knife and stabbed both my mother and my sister in front of us while still laughing like a madman. I channeled every energy inside my body, every emotion that I have immediately become anger. I jolted forward, pushing him into the ground, and piercing my steel sword hard into his heart.” He heartbrokenly recounted. “He was still laughing – but I had the last laugh.” He trumpeted.

“And that was the last time I saw of my mother and the last we were able to spend time together.” He added.

“Y’know boy, there are a lot of things in this life that people die and crave for. A lot of men die for gold, some die for honor, while stupid ones die for whores.” He explained.

“But real men – real men die for family.” He annunciated.

“Whoever this family may be, I’m sure they love you and care for you. Whether they are your real family, friends, or companions, you should care for them. After all, they say that the blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb.” He asserted.

“You see, after that experience, I promised to myself to not waste any more time and spend it wisely with my family. I spent all of my time with my father, loving and caring for him until his last breath. Afterward, I met Fendrino and Gorim in the city while I was looking for a job. It was one of the greatest things that happened in my life. They may not be my blood but I love them.” He expressed.

I looked at the merchant and the Viking in awe, they blushed, and their face was full of joy because of what the coachman said.

“Take every chance you get to spend time with your mother, boy. You don’t know what the future holds. Your mother or even you may not be alive tomorrow. Forget the past. Live in the present. Don’t overcomplicate the future.” He remarked.

“A family is like a heap of stones. Remove one, and the whole structure can collapse.” He added.

I was touched by what he said and he had me rethinking my life within the silence that came after our conversation.

But then, we heard a c***k in the woods. The cracking of a stick.

The three of them were alarmed by the sound and grabbed their swords and axes.

The coachman signaled to the merchant to take me and run to the woods far away while he and the Viking stayed to fight off and give us time to flee.

We turned our back and ran and ran and ran so fast we were participating in a marathon against death.

I hear the growl of men, the clashing of swords, and the cries of the dead from far away.

We kept running – when the merchant tripped.

“Go!” He said.

“Leave me! Run Ethan, Run!” He commanded.

I didn’t think twice. I turned my back to him and ran as he said.

I pondered, am I selfish or am I just good at following orders?

As I was running, I hear the clashing of feet, the breaking of sticks, and the thumping of rocks behind me.

It was getting near.

And I was getting tired.

Is this my death? Is this how I will go?

I haven’t said my final goodbyes yet.

I haven’t done everything that I wanted to.

I haven’t lived my life.

My mind was absent while my body was still running.

I was delighted as I saw the end of the forest. A big arch, the sights of fires, and houses in the far distant.

I thought to myself, “Maybe I get to live another day and I vow to spend more of my time wisely.”

Until I took an arrow to the knee.

I tripped.

I fell.

I looked at the arch for one last time.

Its fires that lightened my heart a few seconds ago are now dimming.

My heartbeat was slowing down.

My body is wearing out.

The sound of footsteps is getting near, louder, and slower.

I said my farewell to myself when I felt my eyes closing one at a time.

I heard a big loud thump.