There was a place once. So old and timeworn, that even the most meticulous seekers of universal history would shake their heads (if they had one), were one to ask them about it - that’s how ancient this place was. Maybe millennia, maybe dozens of billions of years old - even Loren Bookeater couldn’t tell you, and he swallowed so many books in his life, he packed himself into a black hole and ingested his own universe as well.

Why?

So that those pesky aliens wouldn’t snatch his tastiest culinary recipes, gathered from the best ages of the times when universe was still in one piece!

Well, it’s still in one piece even now. More united than ever before, I’d say.

But alas, this is a story for another time. Now, see, this ancient place was full of dreams and ideas, that its inhabitants were producing in truly numberless quantities! For it was the only food they could ever afford, for their life was a meaningless clamber upon the dead surface of the land.

Not like it was a bother for such creatures like themselves, born of land and nothing, and fading into nothing after running their mockery of lives back into the Father-Earth. For so narrow and dry their vision was, a miracle crashed down on their meager village one day to shake them into crawling.

And what that miracle was, I wonder?

As the esteemed village elder pointed six of his eyeballs at the blackness of the Mother-Sky, as his hundred tendrils trembled in delicious despair, he then fell down to the bitter ground, shrieking to his oblivious neighbours.

“Oh, woe to us! Sun abandoned its children!”

And then arose the grand hysteria, as the Sun in its eternal wisdom had indeed left the skies behind, not willing to condone their hollow existence with its crown. The colorless veil swallowed the village, with screaming and gruesome sounds in tow, as there was not a soul that knew what to do.

“The esteemed elder, the Sun is gone!”

“I can perceive that! What do we do about it?”

“You are the elder! Ponder your head, for you have one!”

And the elder pondered, and the shining solution tumbled into his thinking.

“We send a free spirit to talk to the Sun and convince Him to get back to us!”

But such a selfless undertaking was alien to the beings of the village. They turned on the elder in a whisk and hanged it on a nearby rock with its tendrils.

And so it was hanging there, contemplating. But the Mother-Sky was empty still, fiercely grinning at his distress.

Quite some time had passed since then.

The Sun wasn’t eager to shine again.

And gathered villagers together, and scratched their thinking collectively. It was decided to follow the esteemed elder’s words. But nobody wanted to suffer for the fellow brethren.

They cut the elder down from the rock and prostrated themselves before it.

“O forgive us, esteemed elder, for we know not what we were thinking!”

And forgiveness was given, not without some spite. But the problem was there, and who would be the sacrifice?

There was a kin in a village. Dumb and tough was this rock-born, wood-skeleted, and clay-taught kin. But even then, his innerness shone as bright as the Sun itself. From the time the Sun ran away, this kin was dozing off in his hut of bones and flesh. Proi was it's name, and the perilous bother fell on it's head, for nobody found a pity for this kin.

And the villagers woke it up violently, and hauled it’s body to the elder.

So Proi was standing there, eyes wide, as the elder was blessing it for the venture.

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“O, young kin Proi! You are to find the cowardly Sun and bring it back to us, for you are the One who is the most gifted of this land!”

And believed young Proi these shallow words, and promised it to traverse the land of the unknown, to bring the light back to its people.

And the villagers were rubbing their hands gleefully, when the stranger appeared before the elder, with His presence alone squashing the mob into the flesh of the ground. The stranger towered over the elder twice over and nearby huts were merely standing shoulders with Him.

And when he spoke, his voice thundered over the land, turning despicable villagers into fine red mist. Accidentally.

“Whose claim is to be the master of this snake pit?”

The elder rose its tendril from the land, not daring to move more than an inch.

“Me… Spare us, o mighty horror! I beg of you!”

Two black voids with freezing light nailed the elder to the ground. It stared at the gaping holes, each on every horn of the stranger, shaped in the ancient symbol of ‘V’. The silver shine on horror’s body had torched the elder’s senses forever.

“I require you to relinquish your kin to me.” The stranger told.

“What kin do you prefer, o mighty?..” The elder trembled.

The metal cane in the stranger’s hand was pointed at Proi. The horror crossed three other appendages together, delighting in the villagers' distress.

“For what vile reason this kin was sent? Alone, with no chances?”

“Forgive us, o you greatest star! For he was the only hope we had!”

The stranger chuckled.

“I see you do not release your peril. I know your reasoning. Perhaps you would be the one to move?...”

The elder shook himself to death, his body flopped all over. The stranger reached his hand to Proi, gesturing to follow.

“Let’s give your place the light it lost - if only they deserved it…”

Proi bowed to the stranger.

“Thank you, Lord! I want this night be over…”

They gathered all supplies they wanted, and traveled for the mountains. The Moon was glancing at them throughout, threatening to swallow.

“My Lord, why Sun left us behind?” Proi asked its newest handler.

The stranger - going by the name Imeera - shrugged, and said,

“For reasons why - I have ideas. It does not matter in the end. What matters is the path ahead. Do not concern yourself with triviality - our journey’ll be a stirring one. Just keep your senses on the road - the trouble is awaiting us.”

So said the stranger, and in an instant, the road rose up and sang -

“Why dirtying my plains, you, demons? Go dirty someone else!”

Imeera had laughed at its displeasure, while Proi stood mortified.

“Forgive me, but the path is here, and moving we post-haste. You happened to be here with us - oh well, it was a blunder.”

So said the crystal silver giant, with the cane of metal tapping.

But the road was not the one for peace, for angry cracking grown.

“I smite at you will all my might - right here, you savages and brutes! I was so clean through the year, and you had smudged me with your boots!”

And roared the road in bitter anger, for smeared was its pride. But then young Proi had just awoken, and tried to stop the strife.

“My master’s quite rude sometimes, forgive Him for disturbance! The Sun was running here - you heard it?”

The road stopped for a moment before the spite returned.

“I did indeed. But that’s no matter - prepare to be filth!”

The road swung with itself. The poor Proi was no wiser.

Imeera caught the kin by it's leg, thus saving it from demise.

“I was inclined to let you go… But you chose to get bloody. No matter. Do your worst. Do hurt me. I will be the last, laughing.”

The foe had struck with rage and fury. The air was getting heated. But stranger put the cane in front to stop the road from hitting.

The clash had rang throughout the land, collapsing bones around. The flesh on land was screaming “Stop!”, when fighters went unbound.

The road was whipping Imeera swiftly - from left to right, no moment left. But the master was no mere cattle - he merely stood back at the cleft.

The road was senseless in its frenzy. It slashed and trapped itself in the wall.

The giant then struck his foe with vigour.

The road repelled, with mind aghast.

“Whose are you?! The warrior of old? I thought they all had passed!”

Imeera had chuckled at the confusion his foe was now seeing.

“No trick. I am but only drifter, see. For me, the clash is stale. For you, this pride is all you wear. Turn back and leave us be alone. We have the Sun to meet.”

The road had screamed its curses in peril. But fighting spirit had left their foe. Its anger faltered, no more then feral.

“I will agree to let you pass. The Sun been here ticks ago, had warned me of your danger. I never thought you could then last, for He proposed a wager. For see, He wants you dead this instant.”

Proi cried in distress.

“How come?! We had just left the village!”

Imeera then pondered and said,

“The Sun is twisted fellow, twisted! But no more woe, my dear friend. I pledged to get the light for you, and I shall smite all foes where they stand! Which way did joker go, if you would be so kind?”

The road had furrowed,

“I do not know. The Milk Bridge was this way. The myths all live on the path to North, that is a fact established.”

“But wouldn’t Sun be to the East? From where it rises, no?” Poor Proi was full of questions - but yet, he lacked the nerve to pry.

The master laughed at such proposal,

“The North, the East, it’s all a bluff. This land has no direction. For there is the only one raw fact - you need a dream to grasp the destination.”

The kin then nodded, unaware. Imeera only sighed. He turned his voids at road demon, awaiting at the side.

“I do apologize for this rudeness. We could’ve been more gentle.”

The road waved them off and swore,

“Go on then, roudy schmucks. I wish to not see you forever.”

And so they moved along the path, towards the dancing mountains. For they didn’t know that their journey was only getting harder.