You tugged your cloak tighter to your frozen body. Ice cold wind swept all around you. It reached under your knitted sweater. It ruffled the fur on your legs.

You would have closed your eyes if it weren’t for the narrow cracking bridge under your two hooves.

Open space all around you. Two mountain peaks towered over you. One at your destination. The other in your past.

The bridge swayed.

The heavy backpack on your shoulders grounded you.

Your ice-cold hands gripped the stale bridge rope. One wrong move. One wrong step. One long fall to the amidst of the unknown. Then, you’ll never reach your destination.

You took another step after another.

A plank cracked.

“Mickery,” a voice called to you. “Mickery, you must turn around. Go home. You won't reach what you are looking for. You won’t be safe on the other side. Return home. Return to safety.” The voice echoed. It repeated once again. It never lets your mind rest.

You needed to reach the other side or nothing would change. You needed to reach the other side to found yourself once again.

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

To see what laid beyond what you’ve learned.

Your hoof hit the stone landing. You rushed forward to reach for the mountain wall. Hooves echoed against the stone ground.

You leaned against the ruff cold mountain. You push yourself away from the steep cliff on the other side.

A crack in the mountain wall appeared further away.

You got closer towards it, one hoof at a time.

A stone rolled over the cliff edge. You made it through the crack and into the cave. The walkway became wider and wider. The cave walls formed into a room.

No one and nothing inhabited its space. Nothing but chunks of wood and an empty fire pit. The fauns who were promised were nowhere to be seen.

You put down your heavy backpack on the ground. Put a couple of wood chunks into the fire pit. Got out a matchstick. Your fingers trembled from the cold. You light a matchstick. The wood burned.

You leaned your back against the cave wall. Legs and hooves stretched out on the ground.

The wind played a tune outside of the cave.

You pushed away your hood from your head once it became warm enough. You scratched the base of your baby horns.

They still had a lot to grow before they could be considered adult horns. You would be an adult faun, once they do. For now, you had to be contained with the baby horns. They hadn’t even existed a year ago. No one would have even considered letting you leave then.

You made it to the other side. You will found what lies beyond.

You would found yourself once again.

Then you would return home and tell the other fauns about your adventures. Then you will return home. Then you can play and dance with the other fauns once again.

For now, you have a journey to continue.

Everything will turn out all right, you thought.

You closed your eyes. The flames danced in the fire pit.