| abstract
| - The sun, like always, rose upon the horizon and brought with it the new dawn. The light shinned down upon a small village near the sea and shinned down its radiance upon the villager who had already risen and begun their daily toil. This was a normal day in A Certain Village. A normal day where the ugly house wife makes pastries and her husband farms his fields. On this normal day in A Certain Village a stranger walked through town. The stranger was a bit short, and only stood about five foot six inches, which surprised many of the villagers as they all stood around eight feet tall. The stranger however drew even more attention to himself by wearing a mask. It was not a mask that a thief or worse a killer, no it was a festival mask, you know the one painted and designed to look like a fox. He wore it across his face, but the eye holes were not cut into it. The stranger should have been walking blind, and as one would expect next he should have been bumping into everything. However, to the surprise of all the villagers and the narrator also, the young stranger did not hit a thing. He just walked through the village like it was normal, he never touched a chicken or stumbled over a stone. It was as if he lived in the village for years. Hanging from the side of this stranger was a fine katana, or at the very least looked like it could be a fine katana. The blade was still in its sheath and the young traveler did not look as if he was going to draw it. Still his presence had gathered a great suspicion from all the villagers, and for once in their bleak lives something exciting was happening. In an instant the sleepy village suddenly exploded into an uproar of excitement and creative ideas. People began to speculate on who this young traveler was and why he was coming into the village. Others began to make up stories about his past based off scratches and scars on his arms. Some people even believed he was not a person, but a ghost of a dead warrior. Eventually chores were half finished, or outright abandoned, as the villagers began to flock to see this stranger. By the time the masses had arrived the stranger had arrived at the local Inn. He had a window side seat at a table and seemed to be drinking a carton of milk from a straw. The villagers began to crowd the Inn with their presence. They would order some side dish from the Inn keeper and act as if they were enjoying their normal day, while in truth they were stealing glances at the young stranger who simply sat in the corner enjoying his carton of milk. Finally one brave village worked up the courage to go talk to the stranger. “Um… sir”, spoke the man in a very low tone. His knees were practically shaking and fear could be heard in his voice. “D…do… do you mind if I take a seat”, spoke the man. The stranger stopped sipping on his milk, which caused many of the villagers to gasp for air. He turned his head and looked up at the villager. The eyeless mast stared at the man as a great pressure seemed to build up inside him. His mind started to wonder to all the stories of horrible deaths people received at the hands of evil pirates. He was sure now he had made a mistake. He was sure he was going to die. The stranger was going to chop him into little bits and leave nothing but a stain on the floor of the inn. “Sure”, spoke the masked man. The voice seemed to have come from another world.
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![[RDF Data]](/fct/images/sw-rdf-blue.png)