One of the stories I tried to write but didn't finish. This is just the first section, and it's an unedited version.
She walked a path on her own, where nowhere it led and came from before. They called her a wandering storyteller, and the stories she told always ended in bold. With no name, she went, breezing through the villages and dens, telling the stories no one could've already heard as they're from times already long past.
'Dear Storyteller,' a hunchback drew close to the smaller frame of the girl, causing her to pause in her steps, 'Tell me a tale.'
'If only you weren't so frail,' the lass replied indifferently to his request, 'I have no stories to tell ye, Master Rale.'
She walked on, alone, ignoring the male that hurried after her. The path was dusty and, after years of having been tread on, the plants no longer grew. After stepping out for the first time in weeks, she once again began her journey and knew, deep within, it will be the final one.
'Storyteller!'
She comes and goes with no name to her face, owning only just a title that came from a praise. Once, it had been said that she declared to the world her name, but, then, that was long ago. Too long, for all that heard her say it had forgotten.
'It's time to move on,' she whispered to herself, 'And to end this silly tale.'
'Dear Storyteller!'
Her reply to the call was a graceful wave and another step forward. She deigned not to speak for she knew a gesture was enough; there are no more stories to tell.
'Enough about the others,' she looked up to the dreary sky and smiled, 'It's time for me to tell the world about the lie I've always lived.'
The hunchback stopped and was surprised, 'Are you telling a tale or it's just I?'
'It's just you, Master Rale,' the Storyteller laughed and left behind a smile as she walked away from the rotting shack that sheltered her whenever she ended another journey and the old man that accompanied her from afar.
She wanted it to end, the monotony of these events. Enduring it all brought her no comfort and, finally, she chose to let go.
'Past will remain as the past...'
She smirked at her melancholic tone and chuckled, 'And they don't determine what the future holds.'