I completely forgot that I'm labelled as eccentric back in the days.
At a young age, I came to know how the people in my hometown used to perceive me. The worst I encountered was when an adult called me a problem child.
Back in our village, being regarded as one doesn't necessarily mean that they caused trouble or violated a rule. A problem child is someone who makes people feel weary and disturbed about their behaviour – a conduct that appears queer to them for some reason.
As for me, I was a problem child due to this particular matter.
"W-Well, I just have a wild imagination, that's all. This is a cap I made, by the way, so it's normal that nobody saw it before," I reasoned, evading his gaze.
"No need to be flustered. I think that it's a good thing to express yourself," Sol assured with an amicable smile, which only made me a bit more flustered.
I'm not sure if people here have a different mindset from my neighbors back then, considering that Ellicht revolves around a broad range of conventionalized images, but the way he said that without a second thought made me believe that there's a chance.
Though I know there's going to be a number of hurdles in the near future, I'm not certain whether my own viewpoints will be able to find their place in this new environment.
The truth that I really have no confidence in my creations doesn't help either. I just brought these sketches with me because a portfolio was needed, and I don't have any innate ability to brag about.
"I'm glad that you think so. I just hope that the workshop I'll be applying to have the same opinion," I replied with a downcast gaze, burying my portfolio into my chest.
"Would you rather get accepted than do the things you like?" he asked, lifting an eyebrow.
"Maybe...? I'll starve if I don't get taken in."
"There's a saying that when you take a job that suits your passion, you'll never feel as if you're working at all. Though I do get your point, it's still better to try than not to do anything at all…"
I then blink at Sol in surprise.
For some reason, he started imparting words of wisdom to me all of the sudden. Going by the silvery tone of his voice and the mellow look on his face, he probably has a lot of experiences.
"…What I really want to tell is, just do your best to find the right place for you, and if people were to criticize you or turn you down, check whether your passion had died down. If it ended up short-lived, then maybe it's time to focus on other things. If not, just try again."
So, finding an apprenticeship is seriously a big deal, after all.
I might have taken things too lightly. I don't even have the slightest idea about my passion or what it's truly all about since I only want to survive life in Ellicht until my coming-of-age. I'm also just satisfied with a stable job that'll help me fend for my needs.
Sol's words remind me of Mother, though.
She likes saying things that are similar to this. One of which is that I shouldn't try so hard to fit in. When people search for themselves, everything else won't easily follow through.
The best way to be accepted by others is to accept oneself first. But then, even now, the part of me that I want to accept remains vague.
I do understand my eccentricity, and I already embrace this side of me ever since, but I believe that this is not the only thing that Mother meant to address by saying that. Though finding a passion is not that impossible, the fact that I remain as the embodiment of ambiguity makes it easier said than done.
I mean, I'm still not really sure of who or what I want to be in the first place.
"Drawing is merely a way to pass time, but like you said, I should try it out first so I will not regret it later on. Thank you for the advice, Sol," I chimed in and beamed at him to which he just returned with an encouraging nod.
"I hope you find one soon. I must go now, though. See you around, Lillian."
With that, Sol finally swerves around and takes his leave.
I can't believe that such a fleeting encounter could pave way to this dawn of realizations. It's a good thing he's gone, though.
Any more of his breath-taking smile and transcendental presence will either make me faint or combust on the spot.
Then, as I daydream about how our next meeting will turn out, I suddenly remember something crucial. At this, my eyes bulge in flummox, figure turning stiff like a stone statue.
"Speaking of which, I didn't get to ask his workplace or address. Argh…! How stupid!"
At that moment, I feel like ripping my hairs apart.
Just when I thought I can finally get a taste of this cliche romance for the first time in my sixteen years of life, I had to forget how to play my cards right.
The damage was already done, though. I have no choice but to leave it all to fate.
"Right now, I must settle down. This ain't time to be Cinderella."
Sol went all the way to advise me, after all.
The best course of action is to find a workshop at once. Perhaps, that way, we might bump into each other again.
Head drowned in this dream rendezvous of mine, I then finally turn back to the bulletin board and start poring over each of the posters. It takes a little while until I finally lay eyes on a good pick.
"Tailor shop? Mother taught me how to sew and since I draw clothes, maybe I should…"
A moment later, I found myself all numb and rigid, standing face-to-face with the stern-looking head seamstress.
Gray strands are already visible in her hair even when it's tied in a bun. Then again, with her thin eyebrows scrunched so tightly together that she might get wrinkles, she's bound to age faster.
"No," she firmly muttered, eyeing me like I'm some kind of a walking disaster.
"Eh?"
It all happened too sudden.
One minute I was looking for an apprenticeship, the second I was heading to the first workshop that caught my attention, then a while later, I was instantly put into test. I was told to stitch an embroidery – the simplest one they said.
Yet, all I was able to do was a few straight lines in the end. With that, I failed miserably on the trial test, consequently leading to the present confrontation.
"Will you at least reconsider? Please, look at my portfolio," I implored, handing over the folder with my documents.
A small hope lights up in my eyes when she takes it, but it quickly dies down when she bursts into laughter.
I'm not sure what's so amusing, but then, looking at her mocking expression, I somehow have a hunch. She just kept cackling like a witch until she looked at me again and scoffed at my face.
"Child, what exactly are you up to? This is blasphemy!"
Then, I freeze in place, confounded.