I opened the door.
The closed door waited in front of me.
I opened the door.
The closed door, now painted a different insignificant color, waited in front of me.
I opened the door, and held it open so I could place one foot past the threshold and one foot still behind it.
The Old Man waited in front of me.
“Rest well?”
His wide brim hat dipped in front of his left eye, obscuring it. My own dead right eye itched to see it. Behind me I heard a cacophony of caws even though I knew behind me was the reflection of nothingness.
“I did.”
He tilted his head slightly as he smirked. I could hear him adjust his grip on his staff. I was missing something…
Wait.
“That wasn’t your pantheon. Half a globe and several continents away.”
“And yet, it happened, and I know of it.”
“It did, and you do.” I was reminded of a word. The word was not spoken yet thundered loudly in the space between us. I had to tilt my head away from him to find relief.
“What else is happening?”
“I found the missing rune.”
“You found the missing mark, but not the missing rune. Any fool can recite letters. You have lost understanding. Find it, before someone else does. At least dolls are cared for. It will be harder to break [willful] fetters.”
Shit.
Behind him, another door appeared, blacker than my ignorance and harder than my will. He stepped aside to grant me clear access.
“Would you know more?”
Oh, you bastard.
“I would.”
I opened the door.