Expanded Horizons: Beyond the Blue

Greener Pastures: Chapter Three

 Karl looked down at his current glass with unfocused eyes and little interest for his current task. All his interests lately had failed to keep him engaged. Talking to women brought him no joy, watching idiots do stupid things after drinking elicited laughs no longer. Karl had fallen into a rut.

"Hey," Hernando said with a nudge, knocking Karl out of his stupor. "You alright? You haven't even drank anything yet tonight."

"I'm good," Karl lied. Hernando shrugged and stepped away to serve the first big group of the night.

Karl continued shining his glass as he allowed his thoughts to wander. Where did the spark go? When he changed his lifestyle, he opted to live in the fast lane, burning the candle at both ends, taking on the motto of "Breaking hearts and beds". Isn't that what everyone wanted out of life, really?

"Bah."

He finished with the glass and picked up another and kept at it. He still couldn't place what was wrong, and no matter how much he tried to push it out of his head, he couldn't escape the nagging feeling of something poking the back of his head.

He spotted a group come in, yet another new band of boys and girls, ready to celebrate their triumph over all odds, just like all the others. Since Karl started bartending, the number of new bands coming and going went up, mainly from his malicious flirtation with the female members. But lately, he found less and less interest in and despise for the youngest adults in the industry.

"Heeyyyyyy!" the front girl said. Karl already knew she was the vocal lead just from attitude. "Rounds all around, Mr. Becker!"

"Coming right-" Karl looked up at the girl who knew his name- "Up?"

"We know who you are," she said, taking a seat. Her compatriots followed. "The label told us to avoid this bar because of you."

"I see," Karl said as he started pouring cheap vodka shots for the lot.

"I'm not afraid of you, though," she said. "See, unlike the rest, I don't have a boyfriend for you to get between."

"Really."

"Yep, so it may be easier for you to get between something else," she said with a wink.

Karl looked her over, but didn't note any of her features. Her body language was open, inviting, perhaps too much so. But it was far from the most suspicious coming-on he had ever received. Still, he didn't feel any desire to learn her best features or attributes.

"Riveting. That'll be six coppers."

The girl cocked her head with a frown, shrugged, and dropped the coins on the counter. Karl scooped them up and brought them to the coinbox and continued serving customers through the night.

When the night concluded, Karl quietly packed up and went home to the eighth new apartment in five years. All the trouble he got himself into forced him to change his residence a good bit, avoiding scorned lovers and obsessive flings. His recent history held far less turmoil though, and he had considered decorating his home more to make it permanent.

He entered his home and dropped his bag at the door, then sat outside on his small balcony and stared up into the dark night sky. He still had that nagging feeling, clawing at his brain, forcing him to stay awake until he looked it in the eye and face it for what it was.

"What am I doing?" Karl asked himself out loud.

His life sat stagnant, stale, and unmotivating. While he watched others move around him, past him, through him, he remained in the same place, wallowing in old miseries and unhealed wounds. What had once brought him a sense of justice now left him empty, hollow. The anger at his wife that kept him warm for years now left him cold and stiff in his living grave.

"Is this what life is to them?" Karl continued to wonder aloud. "Those music types. They use songs to make money, gain fame and love and sex. I use my poems to compete with them. They live for the rush. I always found it. I've done it longer than any who walked through the doors of Hernando's bar...

"Is this the life that she left me for? I became just like them, the thing I despise. She would love me again if she were here.

"Is that... Is that the kind of person I would want to be with? The kind who would want to be with me?"

Karl felt tears at the edges of his eyes as realization dawned on him. He lived a lie for years, and a lie that he never even believed himself. All for spite.

"I... I can't do this. Not any more."

Karl stepped back inside, face still wet with tears, and started going through all his personal belongings for the things he wanted and could carry. He couldn't stay here. Not in the town that he wasted so much of his life in. He had to go out and experience the world properly.

"Where do I go from here?" he asked himself.

With no inspiration, Karl took a look at the newspapers he left on his table from the previous two weeks. Maybe something would give him inspiration there.

Sailors hunting massive sea monsters in the Leviathan sea?

"No way."

Mercenaries taking jobs hunting covenant groups and UGRA remnant forces?

"Too dangerous."

Searching for Mohrnighan ruins in Vaporis?

"Boring."

Tagging along with the adventurer and champion Galactica to find fame and glory?

"Hmmm..."

Karl picked up the pages to the story and looked them over. The front image contained three individuals; Galactica, the dragon bard Ulan, and a human man named Colm, though he didn't look like a Colm. Or maybe he did. Karl didn't really know.

He knew Galactica from her arena days, and if she was adventuring now, she would be one of the safest people to tag along with and gain experience. Karl would never insist on being anything but a beginner. On top of that, the dragon bard Ulan; whom Karl received a great deal of poem inspiration from; would be perfect. Karl looked curiously at the man Colm in the image.

"Looks tough," he muttered. "Let's see the caption-" Karl looked beneath the image- "'After meeting Colm at his favorite tavern- Starcloud, in Joustbergh- Galactica decided to use his bizarre history and connection to the'-" Karl's eyes widened- "'the Order of One Way' to locate the monastery and the hidden knowledge it contains.'"

Karl set the paper down and looked out the window over the town. He had no desire to stay, no reason to. He could leave a note at the bar for Hernando to find when he opened up at noon. With his mind settled, Karl scribbled out the notes for his landlord and friend and left his home for the last time.

From now on, Karl would live a different life, with a new goal. And who knew? Maybe this Colm guy would give him different inspirations.