You dream of the seal. It is a circle of gold. It burns against your palm. You wake with the heat still there. The stone is gone. Only the mark remains. A red ring on your skin. You look at your wife. She is asleep. Her face is pale. Her hair is loose. You touch the mark. It pulses. You remember the oath. You remember the duty. You are the Warden. You must keep the gate.

The gate is in the tower. The tower is old. The stone is cold. You climb the stairs. Your boots echo. The air is thin. You smell dust. You smell fear. You arrive at the door. It is iron. It is black. You place your hand on the seal. The mark on your palm glows. The door opens. There is no sound. The light is dim. You see the room. It is empty. But it is not empty. You feel a presence. You feel a weight. You turn around. The door closes. The seal fades. You are locked in.

You knock. You shout. No one comes. The walls are thick. The silence is loud. You wait. You count the minutes. An hour passes. Two hours pass. You are thirsty. You are tired. You think of your wife. You think of her laugh. You think of her hands. You remember the day you married her. You remember the vows. You remember the promise. You broke the promise. You chose the duty. You chose the seal.

The door opens. A man stands there. He wears a grey robe. His face is long. His eyes are dark. He looks at your hand. He looks at your face. He speaks.

"You are here."

"Yes."

"You are late."

"I was trapped."

"Trapped?" He smiles. It is a cold smile. "You were waiting. You are always waiting. You wait for the command. You wait for the permission. You wait to be free."

"I am the Warden. I have the seal."

"The seal is a lie. The seal is a chain. You think it protects you. It does not. It binds you. You are the prisoner. You are the gate."

"I do not understand."

"You will understand. You always do. In the end. You always break."

He walks away. The door closes. The seal is gone. Your hand is clean. But the feeling remains. The weight remains. You sit on the floor. You lean against the wall. You close your eyes. You dream again. You see the gold. You see the fire. You see your wife. She is crying. She is holding a letter. The letter is blank. She reads it anyway. She understands. She knows.

You wake up. The room is light. The sun is high. You stand up. Your legs are stiff. You walk to the door. It is open. You step out. The hallway is long. The stairs are steep. You climb down. You reach the courtyard. The air is fresh. It smells of rain. It smells of earth. You see the others. They stand in a circle. They watch you. They do not speak. They do not move. You walk past them. You go to your quarters.

Your wife is there. She sits at the table. She does not look up. She stirs her tea. The spoon clicks against the cup. You stand in the doorway. You are still. You are quiet. You wait for her to speak. She does not speak. You sit down. You put your hand on the table. You show her your palm. It is clean. There is no mark. She looks at your hand. She looks at your face. Her eyes are hard. Her eyes are cold.

"Where is it?" she asks.

"Where?"

"The seal. The gold. Where is it?"

"It is gone."

"Lost?"

"No."

"Stolen?"

"No."

"Destroyed?"

"Yes."

She stands up. She pushes the chair back. It scrapes against the floor. The sound is sharp. It hurts. She walks to you. She stands close. She smells of soap. She smells of tea. She looks into your eyes.

"You broke it," she says.

"I had to."

"Why?"

"Because I was tired."

"Because you were weak."

"I was human."

"No. You are the Warden. You are the stone. You are the wall. You do not have feelings. You do not have dreams. You have the duty."

"The duty is a cage."

"The duty is the only thing that holds us together. Without it, we are nothing. We are dust. We are air."

"I am here. I am real."

"You are a shadow. You are a ghost. You have no substance. You have no power. You are empty."

She touches your cheek. Her finger is cold. It feels like ice. It feels like death. She pulls back. She turns away. She walks to the window. The window is open. The wind blows in. The curtains move. She looks out. She does not look back.

"I love you," you say.

She does not answer. She does not turn. She is still. She is silent. You feel the words in your mouth. They are bitter. They are sour. You swallow them. You stand up. You walk to the door. You open it. The hallway is dark. The stairs are steep. You climb up. You go to the tower.

The tower is high. The wind is loud. It howls. It screams. You go to the gate. The door is iron. It is black. You place your hand on the seal. There is no seal. There is no mark. There is nothing. You push the door. It does not move. You pull the door. It does not move. You kick the door. It does not move. You are alone. You are alone.

You sit on the ground. You lean against the wall. You close your eyes. You dream. You see the gold. It is bright. It is warm. It is beautiful. You reach for it. You grab it. It is heavy. It is hot. You hold it tight. You do not let go. You never let go.

The door opens. The man in the grey robe stands there. He looks at you. He looks at your hand. Your hand is empty. But you are holding something. You are holding the gold. You are holding the dream.

"You have it," he says.

"No."

"Yes. You have it. You always have it. You keep it in your heart. You keep it in your mind. You keep it in your soul. You cannot lose it. You cannot break it. You cannot destroy it."

"I am free."

"No. You are bound. You are bound to the dream. You are bound to the duty. You are bound to the seal. It is inside you. It is part of you. It is you."

He walks away. The door closes. The light fades. The dark comes. You are alone. You are still. You are quiet. You open your hand. The gold is there. It is small. It is bright. It is warm. You close your hand. You hold it tight. You hold it forever.

You wake up. The room is light. The sun is high. You stand up. Your legs are stiff. You walk to the window. You look out. The city is below. The people are small. The life is loud. You are above it. You are apart from it. You are the Warden. You are the gate. You are the seal.

You go to your quarters. Your wife is there. She sits at the table. She stirs her tea. She does not look up. You sit down. You put your hand on the table. You show her your palm. There is a mark. A red ring. It glows. It burns. She looks at your hand. She looks at your face. Her eyes are soft. Her eyes are sad.

"I am here," you say.

"I know," she says.

"I am staying."

"I know."

You take her hand. You hold it. It is warm. It is real. You feel the pulse. You feel the life. You feel the love. It is there. It is strong. It is true. You do not let go. You never let go.

The day passes. The night comes. You sit in the chair. You hold her hand. You look at the seal. It glows. It burns. It is beautiful. It is terrible. It is yours.

You dream again. You see the gold. It is bright. It is warm. It is beautiful. You reach for it. You grab it. It is heavy. It is hot. You hold it tight. You do not let go. You never let go.

The story ends. The seal remains. The gold remains. You remain.