Travelling is tiring, really really tiring. Arkadius would know, as he's been travelling continuously since he left his home and his family at the age of seventeen, eighteen long years ago, staying no longer than a handful of days anywhere, lest his past, troublesome or otherwise, catch up with him. He'd fell into a routine before hearing rumours of things kicking off on the continent of Kantas; travel somewhere new, find an odd job or two, earn some money, spend some of it, drink, move on, repeat.
It was when he started hearing more and more of Kantas that he began to travel in that direction, hoping that one day he would hear again from that Visitor who called themselves a Follower of Swan, and actually get some guidance as to why he had these powers, why he was chosen eighteen years ago, and what he should be doing with his life.
"Before I tell you my story, little one, I have questions… I can sense that you are uncomfortable, In more than one way. You don't like it here. Why do you stay?" the Visitor asked him from across the table, fingers steepled together against it's chin.
Arkadius paused, hands held still in a ball on his lap,
"This is my home, no matter what. Plus, I'm too young to leave."
This answer solicited a snort of derision from the Visitor, thin wisps of smoke coming from his nose. Arkadius did not notice this.
"Home is where you feel powerful, not where your family lives or where you lay your hat... Take your father here," the Visitor gestures, to his side,
"I've been here just over a week, and I have observed your father in here every night. This isn't inspiration, this is alcoholism."
Arkadius blinked for a few moments, unsure of what the Visitor's ultimate point was. The Visitor was visibly growing more annoyed at how oblivious the youngling he had 'chosen' was.
"Okay. Forget it. I'll tell you the story, and that'll either help you make up your mind to travel, or make you never, ever, ever leave..."