11

The wanderer knew he had reached the end of the path even before he saw it. It hid behind a curve surrounded by bushes full of holy berries.

And it was a door.

Alright, door could be an understatement. It was big, though not as big as an entrance to a throne room. it was more of a small gate. Yes, that seemed appropriate.

It was a gate.

Behind the gate there was nothing but the familiar screeching. Despice being so close, it still sounded as quiet as ever. And there were colours. The wanderer could pick out shades and twirls of all imaginable and unimaginable colors. But apart from that he could see nothing.

Baffled he looked at the gate.

Is this the end of the world?

Above him Avemortis hovered in the air restless, urging him forward.

He turned around and looked back at the path that was trampled full of dreams and the footsteps of the people before him. And he looked up at the sky. Where the sun smiled at him.

Maybe the sun and the moon are both lonely. It must be tough to sit alone all the time, watching people come together and leave each other.

He looked back down at the grass, slowly moving according to the wind, and found himself nervous.

He didn't know how long he just stood there, marveling at his surroundings. Time had no power here. Even the Sun decided to stay longer to watch him.

Is this the last thing I'm ever going to see of this world?

Finally, he took a deep breath and turned back to the door.

Only one way to find out.