The Prophecy Foretold…

The words you read now are not mere ink on parchment, they are a warning, whispered through time, carried by those who came before and those who shall follow. The stars have aligned once more, as they did when the first path was chosen, as they will when the last steps are taken. I write to you not as a guide, but as a voice calling from the shadows of what is to come.

You have read the words of the explorer. You have seen the signs, the symbols left for those with the sight to understand. The path where the stars align is known to you now, but do you yet grasp its meaning? The road ahead is not what it seems, for choice itself is the illusion, and truth is buried beneath the weight of those who seek it.

Three paths stand before you, though in truth, only one is real. The golden path gleams with promise, but its light blinds those who walk it. Many have stepped upon it, lured by its brilliance, believing it to be the way forward. But the golden path is not what it appears to be. It is a deception, a veil cast by those who would keep the truth hidden. Those who walk it do not return, for they are swallowed by the illusion, lost to time, their voices drowned beneath the echoes of false promises.

The shadowed path is worn with the steps of the forgotten. It is a road walked by few, for it is cold, lonely, and without comfort. And yet, within its depths, the stars align. It is the path of seekers, of those who do not follow light for the sake of its brightness, but who instead search for what lies beyond the veil. The one who carved the words in the cave knew this truth, that only those who walk through darkness with eyes open shall see what others cannot.

The final path is silent, carved from stone, its whispers barely heard above the stillness. It calls to those who hesitate, those who stand at the crossroads but do not move. It is a path of waiting, of watching, of choosing nothing at all. And yet, in that stillness, truth can be heard, if one dares to listen.

I have seen what happens to those who choose poorly. The golden path, though tempting, swallows men whole. Their voices are lost to the wind, their names forgotten. The shadowed path, though treacherous, leads to revelation. But there is a price to knowing the truth. Those who have walked it before have never returned the same. They speak in whispers, their eyes holding the weight of things unseen.

Long ago, before the first kingdom rose, before the first stone was laid, there were those who knew the secret of the stars. They built no temples, carved no tablets, wrote no books. Their knowledge passed through whispers, carried on the wind, entrusted only to those who could hear. It is said that their voices still echo, hidden beneath the hum of the earth, waiting for those who will listen.

The golden path was the greatest lie ever told. It was built to dazzle, to draw those with ambition and greed, those who sought power without understanding. It is a path of falsehoods, of illusions spun so intricately that even the wise can be deceived. Those who walk it vanish, their names struck from history, their existence rewritten as though they had never been.

The path where the stars align is a different road entirely. It is not paved in gold or carved in stone, but instead lies hidden between moments, glimpsed only by those who are willing to see. It does not call to the faint-hearted, nor does it promise comfort. It is the path of those who question, those who search beyond what is given, those who are willing to be lost in order to be found.

And then, there is the door.

The explorer saw it. Others before him have found it, though few have dared to enter. It is not locked, nor is it hidden, yet it remains closed to those who do not know how to look. It is said that the door is not a door at all, but a passage between what is and what was meant to be. Beyond it lies something ancient, something waiting.

It is written that those who have stood before the door have felt it breathe, have heard it whisper. Some say it is alive, that it watches, that it judges. Those who are not meant to enter feel the weight of its gaze upon them, the air thick with unseen eyes. The wise turn back, their hearts heavy with unspoken truths. The foolish press forward, thinking they have unraveled the mystery, only to find themselves lost.

The Guardian who once walked this path before me left behind a warning: Not all who seek the truth are meant to find it.

Many have stood where you stand now. Some turned away, choosing ignorance over knowing. Some walked the golden path, vanishing into the light. But the few who chose the path where the stars align, they are the ones whose names are whispered by the wind, whose choices are etched into time itself. And now you stand where they once stood.

And yet, even as I write this, I do not know if you will heed my words. Perhaps you have already made your choice. Perhaps the path was never yours to choose.

If you are reading this, then the time has come. The stars have aligned. The door has been opened. And once the door opens, it cannot be closed.

If you still believe the choice is yours, then you have not been listening.

For in the end, Seeker, it was never a choice at all.