'Bored...'
Sweat trickled from an old and burly man's forehead.
'So Bored...'
The old man's eyelids are slowly dropping as if he is falling asleep albeit, the existence of the sun above his head. It is noon, and nothing eventful happened.
Outside the tall walls that seemed to be enclosing a castle inside, the old man is standing sturdily. He is guarding the tall and bulky gate that leads inside the castle walls. In front of him is a lively city packed with people doing various activities.
Back to the old man; his name is Morbius Hunt. He had been guarding the castle gate for a long time. If we describe [a long time], it is not an understatement to claim that he had been doing such a job his whole life.
'I need to finish that resignation letter.'
Tired of guarding the gate for 4000 years, Morbius eventually was fed up. His life is confined in his routinary place and activity. His tenacity is quite apparent for lasting such a long time. Nobody would judge him for getting tired.
'Is it even feasible to resign with such a method?'
"Ugh! that incompetent brat won't even know if I quit right?", Morbius is quite hesitant to submit a resignation letter. Noblemen often use resignation letters for resigning from noble office work. This method might be feasible for noblemen, but commoners don't have such rights. If that is the case, then he might as well leave the guard post sneakily since the brat of a king won't even notice.
Pondering about his plan, unknowingly, the day passed by. The shifts had changed allowing him to rest in his living quarter. The living quarter is not big. It is good for housing a single person. It is a room with a single bed, a table, a chair and a shelf of books.
He sat down and took out his parchment paper and pen. He is planning to retire no matter what, but he is afraid to offend the king. From afar, he watched the king grew up from a small cretin to a fat piece of shit. He knew how petty and incompetent that testicle-looking person is. "Is it really necessary to write a resignation letter? I doubt that the kingdom would even know that I left. It has been so long since someone looked at me in the face. Even if they realize it, my face won't be printed in wanted posters."
It has been almost a thousand years since Morbius faced a person. No one knows him personally. Leaving his guard post is a crime against the kingdom, but given no one knows his face boosts his chance of escaping his job.
"How about the nightshift guard?"
The nightshift guard is a new one since the last one just died of heatstroke. Lucky. 'Resignation Letter? Meh. Gonna sneak my ass off here.' Morbius thought as he stopped writing and kept the parchment.
Before Morbius initiated his plan, he first sorted his things. On his right ring finger, he wears a simple-looking ring. The ring is made of metal without any adornments. He rubbed his ring gently like it is his baby.
In just a short moment, the ring became a bit hot and his surroundings changed - at least in his perspective. Around him floats various things. There is a small book which has a yellow cover with a printed title "Foundation for Dummies". Aside from the book, a mountain of bluish stones and a pile of silver coins could also be seen. He checked his belongings before his surroundings returned to normal. It seems that he used his consciousness to look at the contents of his ring - rather his magical ring.
He walked to the shelf and reached out for the books. One by one, as he touches a book, it vanishes into thin air. For where it went? It went inside the ring. The ring in his right hand seems to be magical storage.
"These books are quite handy later on. Hmmm... I have Bestiary Volumes 1 to 3, Rich King & Poor King, The Power of Hobbits, Henry's Pottery, Hunger James: Guide to Cooking, Fifty Shapes of Clay, James of Thorns, Davie Qi Nodes, and Trapping Essentials." Morbius muttered.
'For all those years, I collected some books from the passing merchants. I don't enjoy reading, but it seems that time changes people.'
Emptying the room, Morbius went out of his room and went on a vacant yard. From that point, he began walking in a certain direction.
"This will be the last time for me to collect these bluish stones. The moon might be beautiful and big tonight, but I don't have time to watch such scenery. Collection time... Eh?", as he stopped walking he was startled. Morbius's eyes widened as he look at the scene in front of him.
Every night for 4000 years, he had been collecting bluish stones in this area. These stones seemed inexhaustible. Strangely, he is the only one who finds such stones beautiful so it became a habit of him to collect those, but now...
"Where did the stones go? Last night, this place was brimming with bluish stones. Now, it looks like the stones mysteriously vanished. Did I accidentally mined everything?", Morbius continuously walked in search of a bluish stone. Unfortunately, not a stone was left. He sighed in regret. He wanted to leave this place since he has no reason to stay. As he was leaving, he saw a speck of white light from afar.
Morbius's interest was piqued by the phenomena as he walks nearer the speck of light. He inspected the place and then the source of the light.
"A stone? Such a small stone, but emits a strange light."
He reached for the stone. His hand touched it, but nothing special happened. Even though the bluish stones vanished, he did not go away empty-handed. The light stone vanished from his hand and went inside his storage ring.
After finishing his matters, he went to the castle walls. The security, no matter what time of the day is always lax. If not for this castle being in an insignificant kingdom, the castle has been razed by neighboring kingdoms already.
Morbius approached the gate and noticed that the night guard is sleeping.
'What the actual fuck is that young lad doing?! Well, it is not as if it matters to me.', since Morbius will leave this castle, it is in his favor for the guard to be sleeping at such a crucial time. With this, he successfully left the castle behind and went to the town to plan the next phase of his retirement plan.