That road was only the first of many, but I had to begin somewhere. It wasn’t even that much of a road, more like a less muddy path in the bleak landscape that was my birthplace.
But it was a start.
I was clumsy at first, of course. After a time, it got easier to walk up to the edge, and imagine that I had the strength of will to step across. Fortunately, imagination was not something I lacked. Rather the opposite, I suppose.
So I embraced my fate and became a road-crosser. A wanderer. And in time, I even began to follow the roads.
Today, I accept my role in this life.
I had a vision of the world changing, and it pushed me onto this quest.
I no longer need the vision to push me on my way. My own curiosity is more than enough to do that.
I see now that my vision of a falling sky was really a metaphor. The actual sky was never falling. But my belief in its limits was already shaky, and the vision gave me the strength to act. I am stronger for that.
The sky fell.
I crossed the road.
I am called to my quest and have answered my call.
I am no longer Little the coward.
I am the Long Road, Wanderer, Inquisitor, and Fowl most Curious.
And I cross roads because they are there.