The road is red. It is thick. It coats the soles of your boots. You walk. The dust hangs in the air. It is a golden haze. It blurs the sky. It blurs the earth. It blurs you.

You are a builder. You have stone in your hands. You have stone in your blood. The city calls itself Aurelia. It is a city of light. It is a city of lies. The Guild of Masons rules here. They are the lords of the wall. They are the lords of the gate. They are the lords of your breath.

You carry a sack. The sack is heavy. It is full of mortar. It is full of sand. It is full of your years. You walk toward the Great Plaza. The Plaza is empty. The Plaza is waiting. The Plaza is a mouth.

You see a figure. A woman. She stands by the old fountain. The fountain is dry. The stones are cracked. She is wearing a dress of white. The white is dirty. The white is old. She looks at you. Her eyes are dark. They are deep. They are wells.

You know her. You do not know her name. You know her face. You saw it in a dream. You saw it in a fever. You saw it in the mirror of your soul.

She speaks. Her voice is low. It is like wind in dry grass.

"Stop."

You stop. Your legs are lead. Your heart is stone.

"Who are you?" you ask. The words are rough. They scrape your throat.

"I am the memory," she says. "I am the thing you left behind."

You do not understand. You are a man. You are flesh. You are bone. You are not a memory. Memories are ghosts. Ghosts do not wear white. Ghosts do not stand in the sun.

"The Guild," she says. "They are coming. They are hungry. They want the new wall. They want the high wall. They want to seal the city. They want to kill the light."

You know this. You have heard the rumors. The Guild wants a wall of gold. A wall that reflects the sun. A wall that blinding. They say it will bring prosperity. They say it will bring peace. They lie.

"Why do you tell me this?" you ask.

"Because you can build," she says. "Because you can break."

You look at the Plaza. The ground is flat. It is smooth. It is ready. The Guild masters are not here. But their presence is heavy. It is a weight on your chest. It is a hand on your neck.

You look at the woman. She is smiling. It is a sad smile. It is a pitying smile.

"Build the wall," she says. "Or build the bridge."

You do not know what she means. You are a mason. You build walls. Walls keep out the cold. Walls keep out the enemy. Walls keep out the dark. Bridges are for fools. Bridges are for travelers. Travelers are dangerous. Travelers bring change. Change is death.

"I will build the wall," you say. The words are solid. They are iron. They are the law.

She nods. She does not argue. She does not beg. She simply looks at you. Her eyes are full of tears. But she does not cry. She turns. She walks away. She walks into the dust. She walks into the haze. She disappears.

You are alone.

The sun is high. The sun is hot. The sweat runs down your back. It stings. It burns. You pick up your trowel. The trowel is sharp. The trowel is cold. You pick up a stone. The stone is heavy. The stone is warm.

You begin to lay the foundation.

The first stone is placed. It is perfect. It is flush. It is true. You place the second. The third. The fourth. The rhythm is fast. The rhythm is strong. The mortar sticks. The stones lock. The wall rises. It rises inch by inch. It rises foot by foot. It rises against the sky.

You are strong. You are proud. You are the master of the stone. You are the master of the city. The Guild will be pleased. They will give you gold. They will give you honor. They will make you a lord.

But the dust is getting thick. The dust is in your eyes. The dust is in your lungs. You cough. The cough is wet. The cough is deep. You spit. The spit is red. You are bleeding.

You do not stop. You cannot stop. The wall must be high. The wall must be strong. The wall must be gold.

You look up. The sky is gone. The sky is covered in dust. The world is brown. The world is silent.

You hear a sound. It is a hum. It is low. It is deep. It is in your bones. It is in the stones. It is in the air.

You stop. You listen.

The sound is coming from the wall. The wall is singing. It is singing a song. It is a sad song. It is a song of loss. It is a song of separation.

You remember the woman. You remember her eyes. You remember her words.

"Build the bridge."

You look at the wall. It is ten feet high. It is solid. It is beautiful. It is a prison.

You look at the ground. The ground is cracked. The crack is small. It is thin. It is like a vein. It runs across the Plaza. It runs toward the wall.

You understand.

The wall is not just stone. The wall is a cut. The wall is a wound. The wall is a betrayal. You are betraying the city. You are betraying yourself. You are betraying the light.

The Guild masters arrive. They are on horseback. They are dressed in gold. Their faces are hidden behind masks. The masks are smooth. The masks are featureless. They look like the stones. They look like the wall.

"Good," says the Master. His voice is loud. His voice is clear. "It rises fast. It rises true."

You do not speak. You cannot speak. Your throat is closed. Your throat is locked.

"Finish it," the Master says. "By nightfall, the gate must be sealed. The city must be closed. The light must be kept in. The dark must be kept out."

You look at the Master. You look at the wall. You look at the crack in the ground.

You pick up a stone. The stone is large. The stone is heavy. You lift it. Your arms shake. Your muscles scream. You lift it higher. You lift it above your head.

The Master watches. The Guild watches. The city watches.

You throw the stone.

You do not throw it at the wall.

You throw it at the crack.

The stone hits the ground. It does not break the ground. It breaks the silence.

The crack widens. The crack grows. It snaps. It screams. The ground shakes. The wall shakes. The dust falls. The dust rises.

The Master shouts. "Stop him! Stop him!"

You do not stop. You are not a man. You are not a mason. You are a force. You are a storm. You are the wind.

You run. You run to the base of the wall. You put your hands on the stones. You push. You pull. You twist.

The wall resists. The wall is strong. The wall is made of law. The wall is made of order. The wall is made of fear.

You push harder. You push with your soul. You push with your memory. You push with the love you have for the woman. You push with the love you have for the light.

The wall groans. The wall cracks. The wall splits.

A gap opens. The gap is small. The gap is dark. But it is there.

The Guild masters run forward. They draw their swords. The swords are gold. The swords are sharp. They cut the air. They cut the dust.

You stand in the gap. You are small. You are weak. You are alone.

The Master stands before you. He is tall. He is broad. He is a mountain.

"You are a fool," the Master says. "You have destroyed your life. You have destroyed your place. You have destroyed your future."

"I have opened a door," you say. Your voice is quiet. Your voice is clear.

"There is nothing behind that door," the Master says. "There is only chaos. There is only death."

"There is only truth," you say.

The Master laughs. It is a cold laugh. It is a dry laugh.

"Then die with it," the Master says.

He swings his sword. The sword is fast. The sword is bright. It flies through the air. It flies toward your chest.

You do not move. You do not blink. You look at the sword. You look at the light. You see the light. It is not gold. It is white. It is pure. It is free.

The sword hits you.

You feel the pain. The pain is sharp. The pain is cold. The pain is bright.

You fall. You fall to the ground. The ground is soft. The ground is warm.

The dust settles. The dust is still.

The wall is broken. The gap is wide. The light pours in. The light floods the Plaza. The light hits the Guild masters. The light hits the Master.

The Master screams. The light burns him. The light eats him. The light erases him.

The Guild masters fall. They fall to their knees. They cover their eyes. They cry. They beg. They beg for the wall. They beg for the dark.

You lie on the ground. You look up. The sky is blue. The sky is vast. The sky is empty.

The woman is there. She stands in the light. She is not dirty. She is not old. She is bright. She is new. She is you.

She reaches out. Her hand is soft. Her hand is warm. She touches your face.

"You have chosen," she says.

"I have chosen," you say.

The pain fades. The pain is gone. The body is heavy. The body is far. The mind is light. The mind is free.

You feel a pull. It is a gentle pull. It is a sweet pull. It is the pull of the river. It is the pull of the wind. It is the pull of the stars.

You close your eyes.

The city is silent. The city is open. The city is free.

The wall is gone. The wall is dust. The wall is memory.

You are gone. You are dust. You are memory.

The light remains. The light is golden. The light is eternal.

The road is red. The road is clean. The road is open.

You walk.

You walk.

You walk.