Pantheon turned of age and struck out into the world. Alone he explored the wilds and for his troubles, he got a bloody nose from his first encounter. But he picked himself up, dusted himself down and tried again. He was intelligent and realised he needed company to progress. So, he made some friends, told them about his passion for exploration and together, they strode out, succeeding where previously, he failed.
Through their adventures, they earned some coin, they found some loot. They donned some good-looking gear and carried on with adventure and discovery. Every now and then, there would be a setback; a foe that would bloody their collective noses, but each time they were knocked down, they would get back on their feet and they would overcome, together. Nothing stopped them.
Day by day, Pantheon got stronger and stronger with every passing adventure, he got more skilful and more practiced. His reputation grew and grew. His friends grew to love him; he trusted them and they trusted him. Together they would listen to rumours, weigh their worth and hunt down those that showed any merit.
One day, a mysterious woman came to Pantheon when he was alone. She was dressed in a fine woollen cloak. The hood was pulled over her head, obscuring her features. Mud splattered from the hem to the hip. “She has travelled a long way”, he thought.
"You are Pantheon.", she said. It was a statement, not a question. She continued without waiting for a reply, "To the north, the far north, there is a land full of wonders and treasure and mystery called Terminus. You must travel there and when you get there, you will be fulfilled."
Pantheon blinked in surprise; he was lost for words. She continued, "before you get there, however, you will need to make a choice. A hefty choice. Your actions, whichever you choose, will weigh heavily on your soul and will affect those around you. It will be your choice to make, and yours alone, but you should listen to friends when you consider that choice."
Pantheon wanted to speak, questions raced around his mind, but he found he could not utter a single word. He felt entranced, captivated and for some reason, worried. He wanted to know more, needed to know more, but the woman simply turned and left. He could not move; he could not talk. He just sat staring at the space vacated by the woman.
The next day, Pantheon gathered his friends together and told them of the encounter. He told them word for word, what the woman had said and described the hunger the woman had birthed in his breast. He had to find out what the woman was talking about, where this land was and what was there.
Pantheon’s friends were all intrigued and bought into the proposed journey. They all agreed to go with him. So off they streamed, shiny gear in hand, empty backpack hanging from their shoulders. Hunger in their eyes and a smile on their lips. "Onwards and upwards", they cried as they set off.
Many days passed. Many! Days turned to months, months to seasons, seasons to years. And still they ventured on. North, forever North. Still, they shouted, "Onwards and upwards!".
One day, when hope had indeed started to wane, they came to a fork in the road. In the middle of the fork, a simple signpost displayed two names, Terminus to the north and Abstraction to the Northeast.
Pantheon said, "I have heard of Abstraction. I have been told it is the place to be. Yes, this is the way we need to go".
"But that is away from Terminus?". Bob queried.
"Nonsense" Pantheon replied, "It is a short cut, it will be quicker. Besides, we can stock up and resupply ourselves. We can even get some mounts and get to Terminus, faster and in comfort".
Before anyone could speak, Pantheon added, "I have heard that Abstraction is full of life, and fun, and games, and all of us could really do with a break. Yes?"
"What about Terminus, though; our epic quest?" asked Bob, sullenly. "We have been through so much and we are so close."
"Look", said Pantheon rather irritably, "We can restock and retrain in Abstraction. We will be stronger for it. Let’s get there first and worry about Terminus, later!". With that, Pantheon stalked off towards Abstraction. Not once did he turn back to see if his friends followed, he just knew they would.
One by one, the party trudge down the road after Pantheon until only Bob remained. Sadness filled her eyes as she watched Pantheon’s back marching down the road. Emptiness sprang in her heart. Hope evaporated from her soul. How can she tear herself away from the quest for Terminus? She cannot. How can she tear herself away from Pantheon? She cannot. Bob, stood there, unable to follow or leave…
I surmise that Abstraction is a place full of glitz and glamour, bright lights, and raucous crowds. Pantheon will be lured by the lusty brothels and the everflowing mead so much so that he will fail to feel the cold dark fingers reaching into his pockets and further into his soul.
Each day spent in such a place will dull his senses and remove his original quest from his mind. Terminus will become a myth, a legend, an unobtainable shangri-la populated by ghosts of adventurers who yearned for the challenge of the wilds. Terminus will pass into legend and few will be left to pass on the lore of the once wondrous land promised to those who faithfully waited as the years dulled their eyes and grayed their hair.
Hope does not spring eternal.
