Grey Wall
Towering over everything was the Grey Wall. For a thousand generations the Grey Wall had separated the worlds, looming above each in silent threat of what lay on the other side.
Looming in the heart of the the unchosen.
No being had every crossed the Wall.
No human would try for the abject terror it brought the imagination. Even the birds, circling and wheeling about the azure sky would not cross the line of demarcation. The Wall meant safety and the Wall meant death.
Zenyassa did not care for safety and she did not fear death. She was Unchosen. What did it matter? What was life without the risk of losing it? She could not feel alive sitting before a thatch hut milling grain while the men of her village hunted wild yissana beasts. Their hunt brought them adventures and risk for the reward.
The yissana beasts were the prey of the mighty zarach. All teeth and claws, armored in leathery skin decorated with bright plumage. They hunted alone. Even the men in all their fervor feared to encounter on.
Zenyassa shuddered at the thought of the zarachs. She was brave, but to face one alone was a challenge akin to the Grey Wall itself. No, the Grey was a different challenge. With the zarach, it was life or death. With the Grey it was unknown. What happened on the other side was unknown and there existed fates worse than death.
Fear pervaded her, cutting off all other feelings as Zenyassa stood at the base of the Wall. Her hand grasped a protrusion, bulging from the wall’s unyielding flank. It felt cold even though the day was hot and the red sun burned and scorched from above. None knew of what material the Grey Wall was made from. It was just another of the mysteries.
Mysteries Zenyassa was going to solve.
Hand over hand she climbed.
Each precarious hand hold bringing her closer to destiny. The Unchosen who crossed the Grey.