I always saw the world as a magical place. I read books, I listened to the stories I was told. My eyes grew wide when I heard about the oceans, and the heroes that sailed them. I clenched my fingers when I heard about the brave adventurers claiming an unconquered mountain. I shivered when I imagined the daredevils reaching the depths of the sea. And my mind took me on journey after journey out to the stars, dreaming of one day sailing amongst them.
But soon, I realized: there are no more mountains left to claim. There are no depths not yet uncovered. No jungles filled with unknown creatures to name. The world was at my fingertips – it held no more room for me to leave a mark on it, as little as it had graced me with a mark of my own. In this realization, I turned to the shadows. They never failed to thrill me. With the countless stories of all the terrors lurking within, below, above and behind you, surely they would offer solace for my longing heart?
And yet, the more I saw into them, the more I investigated them, the more that science shone its light upon them, the more I realized: they are empty. There was nothing in the shadows. They were lies. This world had nothing for me. It was the day I decided to leave my home.
Leaving proved to be too easy. I didn’t mourn the family I left behind. I missed them, but they could not offer what I needed. To find my place, I first needed to find out who I was.
I became a craftsmen, a soldier, a scholar, a priest, of the new gods and the elder ones, and finally a sorcerer. I mastered the craft, learned the fair spells and the dark invocations. I became a god myself, a master of my own right, and yet I found that none of it filled the emptiness I held inside.
"Journey-Series", ink illustration series, commissioned by one of my regular customers.
