It was still morning, yet the sun beat across the land relentlessly. The shadows it cast doing little to cool the scorched landscape as I walked through the endless desert before me.

The dry air and hot winds were just as bad, forcasting this day to be far worst than the last as it seemed to suck the moisture from my very skin. It was hot beyond compare, I could feel it burning me, even as I stood behind one of the last eroding towers from days long past. No sane creature would dare go to the surface during the day.

But that was exactly why I was there.

I tugged my mothers faded mahogany scarf further up my face as the wind whipped it around, ensuring the majority of gritty sand would not be breathed in as I trudged slowly through the eroding towers and blistering sand. I didn't get far before having to stop, the heat making it impossible to walk for too long. Dizzy I hunkered over to the edge of one of the remaining towers, managing to catch a wind block as I lifted my tinted googles and looked to the sky, Its pale blue color a dim comparison of its long forgotten ancestor.

I knew it was late for the season, I had believed summer had come and gone, but it was hard to tell on the surface. Any feelings outside of unbearable heat and burning hot winds was simply a dream of past days. I could still remember the stories my mother told me of the surface world and how its history was long forgotten, our family being among the last to know of this once living worlds distant past. She told me stories of a green land covered in things called plants as far as the eye could see, and vast bodies of water called oceans. Both swarming with beautiful creatures. Those were only a few of the grand stories she told me. As a child I thought the words she spoke were a fascinating truth to be discovered, but as I soon found out it was anything but.

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

The stories my mother told me were just that, fairytales for the young. For the weak who couldn't bear the truth. This world was nothing but an ever-shifting wasteland. The only beautiful creatures here were the dead ones. The livings only thought was of killing all they came across, hunger and madness driving them time and time again. This barren land had no rules. Only the strong survived. It was a valuable lesson to be learned early, my scared side a constant reminder of that truth.

Sighing, I pull my googles back down and wipe the lenses with my thumb, removing some of the sand in the process before continuing my journey eastward. My mother may have lied about many of things, but there was one story that I wished desperately to be the truth, because I was risking everything for it.

She told me of a place beyond the eastward dunes, a place that linked all the worlds together. A place where life could be reborn. I honestly never believed her, but I was at my limit. There had to be more to this life. There had to be... Hope. I wanted a new beginning, a place to truly belong. I wanted... no, needed, the power to change this thing called 'FATE'. This was my life, and I was going to live and die the way I chose too.

Luckily, I had a name to go by at least. As she lay dying in my arms from severe dehydration, she managed to whisper its name to me.

Pasaules Varti.  The Worlds Gate.