“Who are you?”
The words echoed across the pale marble expanse, dancing across the buttresses and arches of the lofty cathedral.
Standing at the end of the room on a small podium, the lone figure turned and faced the speaker.
“Hello, Hero.”
His voice was soft, but it filled the space so that no word was lost across the distance.
They looked at one another.
The hero was young, clad in a bright tunic. A blade hung at his side, and a shield on his back.
“Are you the Sage?”
Addressed by name, the Sage smiled, and while his face appeared no older than his companion’s, the expression was one of fathomless age. He lifted a green robed arm to his chest.
“I am,” he responded. “The Father of Wisdom, the Endless Oracle. The Sage Perpetual.”
“Than can you answer—” But the Hero was interrupted.
“If you seek me, you know.”
The youth nodded.
“Come.” The Sage turned, and the motion carried the gravity of suns. Together they walked, and there was no other sound than the swish of fabric and murmur of quiet conversation.