Prologue

Somewhere, somehow, everything begins.

It has to, right?

When you look at life on a basic level you can say that everything has a story. No, that everything is a story. No matter if it’s just a flower blooming or the complex way of a human trying to get somewhere on his paths, no matter in what angles you look at it - basically it’s a story.

And a story always has a beginning. Beginnings are interesting, because in contrast of the endings they seem way more inscrutable.

More cloudy. More foggy.

It’s like watching a red line fading, slowly getting more and more pallid until it’s eventually gone. You try to find the point on which you can certainly say that the red line is not there anymore, but the more you’re trying to find it, the more you’re staring at this red, neat line the more unsure you get. Until the point you give up because you realized that there is no sense in finding something you can’t.

I really like beginnings. In uncertainty there is so much room for more. Endings on the other hand are completely different. I like to compare them with stone, because they always seemed like something extremely solid and unmoveable. Once you get to an ending it’s just there, this huge rock where you know exactly that there is no further going on. I can’t tell if I dislike endings, but I certainly don’t like them as much as beginnings.

If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.

Endings make me sad and melancholic, knowing that an adventure ends. I was never good at saying goodbye to things, never good at letting go. That’s why I love beginnings - it’s a new start, an unknown land yet to be discovered, grabbing me by my curiosity and pulling me away, binding me to it.

But isn’t it ironic that without endings there wouldn’t be beginnings and without beginnings there wouldn’t be endings? As much as I wish I could only live in beginnings, I know very well that I have to deal with endings. This dependency, this interplay of two different but at the same time related things has fascinated me for all my life. It makes me appreciate the beginnings and hold the endings close to my heart, value the stories as a whole. What I think about stories, beginnings and endings is not only a fact, but a philosophy, a way of life I decided to go.

Now, to this story there is no real beginning either - of course there is somewhere - but it was difficult for me to find a point where to start, it’s a very uncertain one. But I want to tell you anyway even if I’m not sure about the time where it actually began...