Your ship is docked.

There is much to explore on the island, but your eyes are drawn to a path. At its entrance, you stop. You assess. You hesitate, caught between going forward and turning back.

For the moment, you have some sense of where you are by what you have seen and experienced. There is no obvious danger. And yet, questions remain—about where you are, about what this place means, and about what may lie ahead.

The path appears to lead somewhere that might provide answers, but the risk is incalculable, and without knowing the truth, fear sets in.

You look back at your ship and think, I can leave this place.

Then you turn and take in the beach, the clear and transparent waves, the chaos in the ocean depths, and the crystal mist-glow of the sky above; the heavens not yet on display. Another thought comes to mind: I could stay right here and make camp.

Then you look at the path again; it’s intriguing, and you feel drawn.

Reader, will you enter?