Before the End is Told

With such choices before her, the woman could see but one option. She turned to the golden door. “All the wealth in the world could not make up for the pain that is hidden here. I will not choose it.” She turned to the stone door. “Even though this promises peace, the price is too high. I will not choose it.” She turned to the wooden door. “Suffering is kept here, but not alone. I will choose it.”

“Then knock on the door, childe, and accept your choice.”

The woman took a deep breath, raised the knocker, and struck it against the door three times, each resounding with the deep low notes of a beaten drum. When the last note faded, the door opened slowly, and the woman stepped through.

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