The End (Prolouge)
“Once you make a decision, the universe conspires to make it happen.”— Ralph Waldo Emerson
. . .
You may have heard tales of me — an oddball like no other. Even when my body is in one place, my mind is always drifting. What I’ve seen is a world so vast it defies comprehension.
I have traveled through dimensions, eras, galaxies — from the beginning of time to its final breath. The whole universe is like my back pocket. I am a Wanderer. And this is my story.
Many years from now — or perhaps it was many years ago, time is strange for one like me — I did the one thing no Wanderer should ever do: I interfered with mortal life.
“Why see it all if you’re forced to do nothing?”I asked my forefathers — stardust now, shadows in the shape of people, a mass of thought that drifts between higher worlds. On a good day, you might summon them to appear as anything at all. But today, they only watch.
It all began when I lost the right to be called Wanderer.
. . .
The Oracles stood before me, arguing among themselves. My hands trembled — one part of me furious, another impossibly calm. I slipped my hands into the deep pockets of my coat.
“He has shamed us! How could you even fathom what he’s done? This is a betrayal to us all!” The Oracles argued often, but never like this.
“He has done what we all feared — he interfered. But instead of debating endlessly, I ask you to set aside your grudges. Let us vote on his punishment,”one said, voice dripping with disdain.“We will never forget this!”
Ironically, they always did forget. That same sentence —We will never forget this— every time they struggled to remember my deeds. That’s just how they’re wired.
While they argued, I drifted off. I never had the calm to stay still — my soul is restless by nature.
I thought of a sea so red that, from high above, it looks like veins spread across the land. Trees so huge they reach for the moons, their bark coated in silver. The ground is soft with white sand. Four moons and six suns circle overhead — some moons hang so close that the tallest branches seem to brush against them.
My mind snapped back as the Oracles gathered into a single shape.
“We have agreed on a verdict.”
“Your sentence is to walk among humans — as one of them. You will remain a Wanderer in truth, but your memories will be replaced with a mortal’s. Only in time will your true self return. You must prove yourself worthy.”
“What? This is absurd! You can’t just take away memories that define me!”
“Silence, Cain!” The name cracked like a whip.“You know the penalty. You broke the oldest law: you interfered. You must atone.” One paused, then continued.
“You will be sent to Earth — the place of your crime. Follow the clues and earn your restoration. But know this: your power will return piece by piece as each day passes. You must not linger too long in one place. Keep moving.”
“This is madness! Without my memories, what if I destroy Earth — the whole solar system — without even knowing?”
“Everything has its price. You will find a lock that gives directions, and a lion with a face like no other. Seek them. Complete the task. Be gone now — we have more important matters than you!”
Before I could protest, darkness swallowed me whole. I’d been here before — where nothing exists yet everything does. Whispers echoed all around, chants drifting from nowhere and everywhere at once. The louder they grew, the less I understood them.
I closed my eyes, fragments of my life flickering behind my eyelids — a life long, and above all, lonely. I saw myself standing at the edge of countless wars on Earth. Battles raging, people celebrating. So much life, so much death — emotions shifting in an instant.
I broke the rule, and not lightly. I knew the consequences. But watching humans destroy each other century after century — I couldn’t stand by forever. I helped them end a tyrant who had crushed them for years — a man who murdered his own out of fear and paranoia.
Nothing has been the same since. And that, I think, is what frightens the Oracles most of all.
As I lingered in memory — drifting through the frozen storms of Isberget, the ice planet — the images turned fuzzy, then dissolved altogether. Consciousness slipped away. Everything faded to black.
