There is a painting on the wall of my inner chambers that haunts me. It depicts a place that I do not remember – yet, when I look at it, my head is filled with such pain that I barely contain myself. The pastels and colors that blend together to form this particular place have no meaning. The canvas is trivial. The frame is a product of some forgotten carpenter. And yet, when all the elements are combined to form the image of a child’s bedroom, I, one of the most powerful beings in this galaxy, am nearly undone.
I am not usually so arrogant to define my powers in such terms, however, truth is a burden we must all carry. It has been a very long time since I have felt pain. Which, is why this painting pique’s my curiosity. Am I connected to it somehow? Where did it come from? Where is this place?
Pawn shops are a small hobby of mine. One never knows what kind of interesting objects can be found. The more dust, the better. Tantris once told me his philosophy, “The search for power and glory in artifacts is trivial. Some find what they want, some don’t. The true journey begins when the artifact chooses you for its own. Then fear is real, survival is only possibility, and the story will continue for as long as you allow it.” I had always believed him to an extent. There is no one who controls my destiny, much less baubles and beads.
Yet, here I am. The painting called to me from a dusty corner in the shop. I felt myself drawn to the place it portrays. Does it exist? Where? This is affecting me far too much. That fact is very unsettling.