When I stood behind 'it' I felt from it's direction no presence at all. It simply stood perched on the edge of the crimson carpet below us. Its back facing me as its front looked ahead. Unmoving and lifeless, as a statue.

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Standing in the presumed aim of its sight stood a grey stone wall. Tall and endless. Stretching out infinitely into the bright clear sky above. A stark contrast from the origin below: where a muddled cloud had set upon the place, covering it in a grey tone that had nowhere near the amount of life present in the boundless sky above.

The wall that stood so colossal was adorned with an equally infinite assemblage of carvings that were present as far up the wall as one could see.

They portrayed beings of many kinds. Most were identical, only slight deviations in their sizes and forms contrasting them from another. A few stood tall and individual above the many, bearing swords, scrolls, or other manner of tools that convened in them some power to stand outside the others. A few among the masses seemed to want nothing other than to be mistaken for just another beside them as they took on a near unnoticeable form. But nothing could mask the reek of cowardice and beguilement that oozed from the souls beneath. There were beings of incredible presence, exerting in enormous waves both feelings of peace and discomfort. Some bore the dignity of knowledge and kindness while others wore only visages of the same. Hiding underneath it a more pernicious nature.

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The carvings portrayed all variety of land. Tall mountains that pierced through clouds and deep oceans that drowned even your eyes in its depth. No matter how far up the wall you gazed there would not be an inch devoid of the life-like sculptures.

I set my vision back upon the stone-still figure now beside me as my fascination with the wall seemed to have drawn me unknowingly closer. I understood intrinsically that this existence had created the wall. That he had carefully revised it at each curve and dent, visited with his eyes each singular feature of it an impossible number of times. And now, those same eyes that he cast upon it were devoid of the passion it may have once had. His eyes had lost their light. He had grown tired of this wall, of his creation.

The figure did not turn to face me nor speak in any form. But I understood that it was leaving this wall, now, to me. I am sure that the only reason I understand is because I was made to. Yes, surely it had created me, if nothing else, to understand. It was only a short while afterwards, that it had disappeared to a place I could not sense, and surely not follow.

The wall ahead soon opened up, a hollow cave of tremendous size revealed on the inside, as if it's gorging mouth.

And I walked inside, allowing it to swallow me whole.