Only the Worthy

There is a bridge spanning across a huge ravine at the end of her journey. Even getting here, she has proved herself to be worthy enough to cross it, hasn't she?

She took a step forward, clutching the sapphire-studded key of gold. The door opened for her, but on the other side of the door was a huge ravine, with a makeshift bridge across it, the kind of bridge every adventure has that’s made of wood planks and some ropes. Next to the bridge was a sign: “Only the worthy will pass.”

She looked upwards and saw the night sky and a bright moon lighting up the bridge, although it had been midday on the other side of the door. She looked downwards, but could not see the bottom, only green vines that seemed to fade away, for deep in the ravine she saw only rock. She looked leftwards and saw an owl soar quickly through the air. She looked rightwards and saw a forest so dense she couldn’t see a yard into it. She looked forwards and saw, on the other side, a world that didn’t exist. She looked backwards and saw the door was gone.

The stars and moon up above flickered, then went out, like lights in an abandoned mansion on Halloween night. The owl screeched and the message was clear, she had to go now; time was running out. Tentatively, she placed a foot on the first plank of the bridge, then the other, and she slowly made her way across.

When she reached the middle of the bridge, all of the animals fled. The ones that could fly beat their wings quickly to make it to her destination, hawks carrying mice to safety. She kept walking.

She heard a noise behind her as she approached the other side. Her pace quickened to a fast walk, then to a run, then to a sprint. Almost at the other end, not slowing at all, she looked back and saw nothing behind her, although the bridge, deeming her unworthy, broke. One step away from her goal, the bridge broke.

As she fell, each cave leading into the ravine told a story. One told of an opening to a time long past. One told of a town in a desert getting immersed in a cloud that should have brought life, but brought death. One told of a crystal that would show you the truth you did not want to know. One told of a bland world of black and white being invaded with color, although those living there thought of this new sense of color as a disease. One told of the creation of the universe. One told of the destruction of it. One told of her upcoming death as she reached the bottom of the ravine.

Each one told a different story, but she understood. These were not different stories at all. They were the same story, through many different perspectives at many points in time. Each slightly depended on the others, but if one were tweaked at all, these events would not have ever happened. She now knew everything she needed to know. “Thank you.”

She did not feel pain as her long fall abruptly ended.