The Man Who Became a Mule

	Name	The Man Who Became a Mule
	Type (Ingame)	Quest Item
	Family	Non-Codex Series, Non-Codex Lore Item
	Rarity
	Description	A storybook gathered by the Adventurers’ Guild. It tells a fairy tale that originated in the desert.

Plain Text

Tabs

Table of Content
Item Story
Obtained From
Gallery

Item Story

Obtained From

Gallery

Item Story

Once upon a time, in Sumeru City, there lived a fool known to all by the name of Ortba, the son of a merchant and a dancer. He was hopeless with numbers and could never keep up at the Akademiya. He was so gullible that he would fall for every trick the merchants used to cheat him. He would believe even the most absurd lies spun by the clumsiest of charlatans, giving away his Mora and even shedding tears of pity in the process. It was said that even the most primitive of desertfolk were wiser than he.
Everyone thought Ortba a fool, but no one knew why. They would laugh and say he was an idiot, a man so hopeless he could earn no living nor make a name for himself.
But Ortba's parents and the friends who truly understood him did not care about what the others said. Instead, they would always say, "He is kind from the very bottom of his heart, and that is the highest form of wisdom one can possess."

Time passed quickly, like sand being swept away by the wind. A kind friend helped Ortba find a job leading a mule. The work was hard and the wages were meager, a burden few could bear for more than a few days. But Ortba took to it with a happy heart, for the mule, with a scar upon its ear, was more genuine and true than anyone else in the whole bazaar. When hunger stirred within it, it would whinny and gently nudge him with its head. Then, when it had its fill of feed, it would close its eyes, lay its head in Ortba's lap, and nicker softly. Never once did it lie to him, and never once did it complain.

But one day, a swindler set his sights on the fool and his mule. He was a shameless man, a scoundrel whose name has long become lost to the wind. He made his living by lies and deceit, and with every coin he gained, he sowed only sorrow and anger in the hearts of others. So vile was he that even the scorpions of the desert kept their distance.
It was on a day when Ortba and his mule were carrying goods from the desert that the swindler saw his chance. He followed them quietly from a distance and waited for Ortba to finish his work.

Before he returned to the city, Ortba decided to rest for a while at an oasis.

The swindler pounced when Ortba wandered off to pick some fruit. He crept over and stealthily slipped the lead rope from around the mule's neck, allowing an accomplice to lead the beast away. The swindler then placed the rope around his own head, crouched low to the ground in the mule's place, and waited for Ortba to return.

Ortba, fruit in hand, stopped and stared at the swindler in shock. "Oh? Who are you!?" he exclaimed, knowing at once that the man crouching before him was certainly not his four-legged friend.

"I am a swindler," the crook confessed, his voice thick with feigned sobs. "I was a man without a single moral in his bones, a wretch wicked and despicable."
"To make money, I told countless lies, caused harm to countless people, and even deceived my own mother."
"To punish me, my mother went into the desert and, with her very own tears, pleaded with Al-Ahmar to teach me how to be good."
"So, Al-Ahmar turned me into a mule to silence me and make me pay for my foul deeds through my actions instead. I would only become a human again when I learned how to be a truly good person."

Ortba listened to the swindler's lies. As the swindler wept crocodile tears, Ortba shed real ones of his own.
"How sad! But you've turned back into a human, so you must now be a good man!"

Ortba jumped up with delight and took the swindler's hands in his own. He then placed all the fruit he was carrying into the swindler's hands.

"You are my friend. I have watched you drink with your head in my lap and sleep by my side. I have love for you, and it makes my heart happy that you have become a truly good person."
"Go back to your mother. I am sure she still loves you and is shedding tears for you right now. Go back, and take this fruit with you. She'll be so happy to see you!"

Holding the fruit in his hands, the swindler felt his throat, which had told countless lies and other foul things, choke up with sand. But he simply nodded his head and, in his mind, told himself:
"What a fool, what a fool... Only a complete fool would be taken in like that."

Once the swindler had gone, Ortba picked up the rope — his heart filled with joy. He ran back to the city, eager to share the story of his mule with his friends.
One of Ortba's friends, a mercenary, turned crimson with rage as he listened to this tale. The powerfully built man sprang to his feet, his hand flashing to the hilt of his sword, as he exploded:
"That stinking lowlife! He fooled you! He took advantage of your kindness for a few coins!"
"Tell me his name! I'll tear that rat's tongue out myself so he can never lie to another good man like you!"
Despite his friend's indignant fury, the smile never left Ortba's face. He gently guided the mercenary's hand from the hilt of his sword to his cup, which he then filled with mead.
"I am moved that you are angry for my sake. But the way I see it, what happened was a good thing..."
"If his words are true, then there is one less villain in this world to be punished. And in his place, there is one more person who has learned the meaning of repentance and regained their morals."
"If what he said was a lie, then there is one less person in this world who would cheat his own mother. And one less tearful mother who had no choice but to curse her child."
Another friend, who had already built a reputation for himself at the Akademiya, interjected:
"Ortba, I admire your kindness. It is a wisdom that humanity so grievously lacks, yet holds in the deepest contempt."
"But the wicked must be held to account, lest the virtuous be exploited with impunity..."
"While I believe this swindler should first face due judgment... Principles be damned! He has committed a grave affront against my friend, and for that alone, he deserves to be lashed!"
Sensing his friends' frustration, Ortba paused. He raised the jug of mead and filled his friends' cups, but his fiercely loyal friends remained silent. Their brows were furrowed as if a whirlwind of sand and dust was swirling around them, carving countless ravines and valleys from their features.
Then suddenly, another friend burst through the door of the tavern, shouting,
"Hey! I just saw that mule with the scar on its ear! It's right there in the bazaar!"
Hearing this, the mercenary gulped down his mead in one go, then shouted:
"Alright! It looks like the rat has left a trail. If we follow it, we're bound to catch him!"

Ortba, his friends by his side, rushed to the bazaar. And sure enough, there stood the mule, right in the middle of the marketplace. Ortba was filled with shock, and he ran toward the creature as if he had something to say.
The mercenary was already asking around for the mule's seller. But the scholar, who knew all too well what Ortba was like, held onto his sleeve gently, trying to stop him from doing anything too strange, like talking to the mule.
But Ortba softly patted the scholar's hand, then bent over nonetheless to whisper:
"Why have you become a mule again? Did you lie to your mother and break her heart once more?"
"You'll have a hard time with someone else. Listen, I'll buy you back and take you with me."
"Don't say a word until then. Otherwise, I may not be able to pay your price."
Just as Ortba was counting the Mora in his pocket, a hand came to rest on his shoulder. The hand belonged to a man with tanned skin and eyes like pure gold. He gave a slight squint as he said gently:
"I am the owner of this mule. Do you want to buy it?"
"Yes, I want to buy it. He is my friend. In fact, he..." Ortba looked down and stopped himself from telling the rest of the story. He believed the man would not want the world to know what he had done.
"I can't sell it to you right now. Besides..."
The man reached for another rope from behind him and handed it over to Ortba.
"This is your faithful friend, my dear Ortba. Take it home with you."
Ortba stared at the animal in surprise. It had a scar on its ear, just like the first one. The mule, recognizing its longtime companion, nudged Ortba with its head, and Ortba responded by ruffling its mane. But what...
"This mule looks just like my friend," said the astonished Ortba, wondering how one man could have turned into two mules, and just what grave sin he must have committed to receive such punishment.
"Yes, he's also your friend," said the tanned man with a smile, "But he has committed a crime. So I am punishing him by turning him into a dumb mule so that he may never speak again."
Ortba blinked for a moment and realized who the man with the rope was. But his thoughts were only of the friend he had once rescued, who was now on the wrong path again.
"But what crime did he commit? Did he lie to his mother again?" Ortba asked sadly.
"No, but the crime he committed is a hundred times greater than that," the man answered. "He betrayed a rare kindness, and so he shall never be saved by another's kindness again."
Ortba had more questions, but before he could ask them, his vision was obscured by a sandstorm that came out of nowhere. When it cleared, the man was gone, but in his place were his friends who had found their way to him and were now asking where the swindler had gone.
Ortba told them sadly, "He made another mistake and was turned into a mule. I hope this time, he will have another chance to turn a new leaf."
With the rope in his hand, Ortba turned for home alongside his friends. Along the way, he thought.
"I need to make more money. Goodness knows how much I'll need to buy him the next time I see him."