Fakir walked through the streets of Gold Crown alone. His mind was a buzz with emerging questions…
He gripped the Lohengrin sword in his right hand for dear life. He kept his eyes down, as if hoping the stone pavement had all the answers he seeked.

For just a moment, his eyes wondered back to the sword.

This was supposed to be his destiny, what he was born to do; He had the birth mark to prove it!
And yet, just now, he was completely useless at saving Mytho and protecting Raetsel (even Tutu!) with his sword. Then here comes Duck saying he has the power to make stories come true?!

Where did she get a crazy idea like that?! The last time he wrote a story…

Fakir halted.
A gnawing pain began to engross his mind bringing sorrow that started to cage his heart.

No! Not again! He could never face that moment again!

Right as he thought he was about to collapse, someone ran into him.
"Oh! I'm sorry about that." It was a man.

Fakir quickly did his best to pull himself together. Fakir looked up to face the stranger. His hair was the color of fire, while his eyes were a calming shade of blue (kind of like Duck…). Fakir also noticed a narrow sword on his hip. But what really kept Fakir's attention was the cross-shaped scar on the man's left cheek. Then Fakir realized he was staring. He shook his head and said, "No, I'm the one who should apologize. I wasn't looking where I was going."

The man gave a warm smile, "That's alright. Although to be honest, it seems like something is bothering you, that it does."

Fakir heaved a heavy sigh, "It's that obvious, huh?"
The man remained silent, as if expecting Fakir to continue.

Fakir was hesitant. How much could he tell this stranger without him thinking he was insane? Would he even believe him? Was it even safe to tell him anything? Only one way to find out…

"Do you mind if I ask you who you are?"
The stranger kept his warm smile, "I am only a wanderer, that I am."
Fakir cocked an eyebrow, "A wanderer? I've never heard of a wanderer with a sword at his side and a scar like that."

The man's smile grew weak as he reached down to brandish his sword. He brought it forward and pointed it downward so Fakir could get a better look at it. He could tell something was off about the blade, but he couldn't put his finger on it.

"A sword is merely a weapon used for killing." The wanderer said sternly, his smile completely gone, "However, this sword, a sakabatō, cannot kill because the blade is on backwards."

"That's it!" Thought Fakir.
The stranger continued, sheathing his weapon, "I carry this sword to protect the weak without killing. It is atonement for my past." Fakir looked at the man with awe. He never expected anything like this.

"Atonement for your past, huh?" Fakir said squeezing the Lohengrin sword as faded memories rattled in his head, "I guess that's something you won't run away from then?"

The stranger looked at Fakir with empathy. "That's what you're running away from now?"
Fakir's eyes went to his feet.

"I think running away from the past will only bring more pain, that I do." The man said gently, "It would be better to accept what had happened and do good because of it, that it would."

Fakir began to tremble as visions from his past and his destiny collided.
"And what if…" Fakir swallowed hard, "What if destiny has chosen your own path for you?"

The wanderer looked off to the sky, "One's destiny is never written in stone. You are the one who has the most control over it, that you do. So long as you make the right choices."
The man looked back at Fakir as he picked his head up. The man held Fakir's gaze for a moment and asked, "Do you wish for your destiny to be what others have made for you?"

"No." Fakir said stiffly.
"Then what do you want?"

"I want…" Fakir began to fight the lump in his throat, "I want to protect people."
The man smiled and nodded.

"But it's just not that simple." Fakir said shaking his head, "Every time I've tried with this, I've failed." He gestured to his blade.
"Perhaps you are not meant to protect with your sword, but rather with something else."

The memory of Duck telling him of his powers flashed across Fakir's mind. Fakir began to tremble again. He let his head hang as he said bitterly, "I do have another way… but that ability… is uncontrollable."

"The only way to control an ability is to become familiar with it." The man responded, "If you allow yourself to fear it, it will always control you."

Fakir absorbed the stranger's words. This truth began to battle the doubts within himself.
Could this power really be able to be controlled? Did this mean he didn't have to face the role given to him? Could he even stray away from his path?

The man watched the boy wrestle with his thoughts, until finally the boy spoke. "Then I guess… I'll have to try… to conquer this fear. Thank you, um…"

The stranger smiled, "Kenshin. My name is Kenshin Himura."
Fakir nodded, "Thank you Kenshin… I'm Fakir… perhaps I'll see you again."
"Maybe so."

A/N: You may be wondering why the flip did I write this when I should be working on my princess tutu mermaid story. The answer to that question is simply this: 1) I want have several chapters written before I publish the first (I only have two written thus far), 2) I thought this would be a fun way to keep ya'll entertained while also letting your know I'm still around, and 3) I wanted to do something like this for a while now and it has finally happened! (I might write a part two to this!)

Anyway, that's all for now. Let me know what you think! Thank you so much for reading!