In the eld days, the sun rested eternally on the horizon, casting aureate light upon the endless fields. Beyond the horizon, a gate to blue skies and green seas. None have returned from beyond the golden archway, though I don’t yet know if that is by choice or not. The arch towered impossibly in the distance. Between its supports, a door to the beginning of the antecedant world.
An Other met my gaze, its face hooded and obscured. I was not permitted to pass with my memories or my golden blade. This Other seemed concerned about me, the role I will play, and the harm I would bring to this world. They knew that they held no power to stop me, but an arcane duty compelled them to. I forged my way into the golden field, each strand of tall grass bending of its own accord to let me pass – or maybe reaching fruitlessly to get away from me.
Hesitantly, I surrendered my blade to the shroud. Despite their shadowed form, I could tell that this gesture surprised the being. They accepted my offering, looking at the blade, then back at me. The Other stepped aside, observing me with curiosity, as I continued on toward the gate at the horizon.
As I approached, I could smell the ocean air. For a moment I paused to consider what the Other had spoke of: the roll I would play, the harm I would cause. I will not be the monster they project me to be.
Will I?