Darian had always known about the river. It stretched endlessly, separating his homeland, Aven, from the distant and mysterious land of Solm. No one who had crossed had ever returned, but whispers of Solm's beauty filled the air-tales of golden fields, endless harvests, and a peace unknown to the people of Aven.
One evening, an old seer approached him. Her voice was barely more than a breath. "Your destiny lies beyond the river. But heed this-once you cross, you cannot return."
Darian scoffed. He would cross, but not yet. He was not ready.
He resolved to build the strongest boat Aven had ever seen. The river was fierce, and he would not leave anything to chance. Through scorching summers and bitter winters, he worked tirelessly-carving wood, binding ropes, sealing every joint against the water's fury.
But while he built his boat, he built other things as well. His land expanded, his wealth grew, and his granaries filled to the brim. People sought his wisdom, and his name carried weight.
Whenever he thought of crossing, a voice in his mind whispered, Not yet. One more harvest. One more season to prepare.
Years passed. His boat stood ready, but still, he remained.
On a storm-choked night, lightning split the sky, revealing the river in flashes of silver and shadow. Standing at the edge of all he had built, Darian looked over his vast wealth, his mighty boat, and felt something unfamiliar-emptiness.
What had he been waiting for?
With quiet determination, he climbed aboard. The river roared as he set sail. Wind screamed through the air, waves battered the hull, and thunder cracked above. He rowed, hands bleeding against the oars, the weight of his choices pressing against his chest.
The current pulled, but he pushed harder.
At dawn, his feet touched new soil.
Breathless, he turned back to his boat-the vessel that carried his dreams, his fears, his years of labor.
Before his eyes, it cracked, splintered, and sank into the depths.
The river had taken everything. His wealth, his home, his safety-all gone.
For the first time in his life, he had nothing.
Then he turned toward Solm.
The land was unlike anything he had imagined. Rolling hills stretched into the distance, green and endless. The air carried the scent of ripe fruit, the rivers shimmered under the morning light, and a strange, weightless feeling settled over him.
For years, he had feared losing what he had built. But now, standing in this place, he saw the truth.
He had never needed any of it.
The river had never been the obstacle.
He had been.
With a steady breath, he took his first step into Solm-lighter, unburdened, alive.