A: Hey, D. What did you want to be when you grew up?
D: What did I want to be?
A: Yeah – I mean, even way back then, at the dawn of time, you had to have aspirations, dreams.
D: I take exception to that “dawn of time” comment . . . 670 was not the dawn of time, A.
A: . . .
D: Well, it isn’t.
A: Fine. It’s just slightly after the dawn of time—
A: You’re avoiding the question, D: what did you want to be when you grew up?
D: You say that as though it’s something different than what I am, now that I am, ostensibly, grown.
A: Oh, I don’t mean that at all – but did you really know, at the tender age of-of. . . you know, this is why I had such trouble writing that book of your beginnings – you as a cherub-cheeked lad with a halo of dark curls really messes with my vision of you now.
D: . . . Your vision of me now?
A: Did you just learn how to italicize, or something?
D: Maybe. It works though.
D: (Eye roll). Regardless of your vision of me now, in my cherub-cheeked days I was made keenly aware of the gifts I possessed, despite my mother’s insistence I have what she called ‘a normal childhood’ away from the machinations of the clans and the druids. Yet, I was the second son of the clan chief, and had a gift that was prophesied before my birth.
A: And then there’s that honor thing – it didn’t let you even challenge that prophesy, did it?
D: You call it honor, but I would say it is integrity. It would not have allowed me to challenge my fate, even if I had wanted to. I did not want to, A. The gods touched my soul – it was my privilege to receive the training necessary to use their gifts. I was born with the responsibility to lead, and it was an honor to fight at the side of my brother and father in defense of our people.
Although, I will say that I veered from the path the gods decreed more often than I care to admit – I am human, failingly so. Yet, even my wanderings were necessary to becoming the man gods insist I become.
A: Indeed – frankly, you left me exhausted after I wrote just a fraction of you story. You’re a little intense, D. But, I have a question.
D: Just one?
A: How do I fit into this path of yours?
D: I’m still fairly certain you’re my punishment for some slight against the gods, although its origins continue to elude me.
D: I do my best. But enough about me, what did you want to be when you grew up?
A: Indiana Jones.
D: . . .
A: Hey, you asked.
D: Indeed I did – and with that, folks, we bid you a fond adieu. It’s A’s birthday today, and I’m sure she’s going to post some of her hijinks on that twittering bird and friendly facebooking – keep a weather eye on the horizon, and it will all be over soon!
A: Cheers, D. And thank you all for reading – have a great weekend!
For The Daily Post’s prompt: Futures Past.