"Just... invent a story? I'm not sure if I could do that," said Merrion, staring down at his now half empty cup, his fingers spinning it around and around. "I'm not a very good storyteller. But... well, I guess there is one more bit of excitement on how I came to Emillion. I almost set the house on fire when my mother didn't let me come. I-it wasn't a tantrum or anything! I just thought, maybe, I could teach myself." He smiled sheepishly. "See, I'm no good at storytelling. I let others do it. They're all so much better than I could ever be at it because they all have lived more exciting lives than I have. It's enough for me to listen and dream that I might someday have a story like theirs."