Death at the Sun Dunes

"How slow the shadow creeps: but when 'tis past

How fast the shadows fall. How fast! How fast!"

-H. Belloc

Death at the Sun Dunes

From behind one of the burning sun dunes, a very tall silver-masked rider galloped towards where I stood, feet-planted, with my blade, Duskwilde, drawn. I had only heard stories of this strange world from my father, who has long since disappeared. But I knew deep down that this Blood Horse and the man on its back carried my end of the line, my demise-- my first death.

But I had to come here. To find my father. He was alive. He just had to be. Somewhere within this realm, The First Realm: Aiolosia.

Aiolosia is the beginning of, well, everything. All other universes are but mirrors, reflections, shadows. Aiolosia, the core of every realm, the center of centers, where the Essence of Life and the Spirit of Existence are in every plant, animal, rock, and yes, every grain of sand. The place where I was born, where no stars glimmer in the sky, where games of death and power determine the outcome of every other macrocosm.

I had a moment to survey my terrain while my attacker rode towards me. I prayed that I would find an escape route or something. I stood in the middle of a vast orange-colored desert. A bitter hot wind eased towards me from the north, bringing a soft smell of copper. A bright golden-red sun hung in a cloudless pinkish-blue sky. In the distance to my left was a series of blazing sun dunes. Bright and burning. I could actually feel their heat from here like hot breath blown from a fiery beast. Nature's mighty engine. And for the first time since my arrival, I noticed how actually beautiful and colorful the dunes were, like a series of dancing oval-shaped bonfires.

Directly behind me was a gigantic door nearly three times my height that I had just walked through. I discovered its secret at the top of a giant old oak within a remote grassy area back in America, invisible to the earthlings. Exactly where my parent's always told me it would be. Although I never expected on this side for it to be made of some sort of unusual shiny jet-black rock, reflective and onyx-like (it reminded me of something right out of a Clarke novel). I guess I just assumed it would be the same on both sides. Odd, how the letters "SERTSAS", a bright reddish-yellow, were flickering, like a small flame, near the top of the door. Some sort of warning, I suppose. I knew from my teachings that it was one of the Psyways (passages or "doors") created by my great grandmothers that lead to the place I just came from, the place I always called "home," but here it was referred to as Ersehth, The Third Realm. Apparently, each of the Four Realms has a total of thirteen Psyways, four for each realm and one that is simply known as The No-door. And according to the legends, the brave few who have ever gone in that one, like Esu or Ose, have never come out of it.

I stared at this Psyway, this beauty of beauties for a few moments. Mesmerized. Caught by my own reflection upon the door, wavering from the desert's heat. I thought, how much I look like my father. Really amazing. I know, I know; I was stupidly ignoring the distant rider approaching towards my back. But I had to make sure I was still me. I had this deep overwhelming inner feeling of unease, that I had changed, been transformed. So silly, and than again... had I actually physically changed? You could learn from anything, any object, not just people or animals. Life is in everything there. Study a rock too long and you may learn some ancient secret or power. Or perhaps nothing at all. You may inadvertently cause a landslide in one of the four other realms. Then again, you may also become the rock. There are just some things we are never suppose to know, son. Remember, we are the gardeners, not the garden. Later, he would add, with great knowledge comes the gift of responsibility.