You can’t get rid of me forever.

The rest of the giant’s island was a barren wasteland, devoid of life, filled only with relics of indeterminate origin. But it was in that direction, into the desert, that I had to go if I was to reach the woman who might be able to tell me from whence I, and perhaps all of the other denizens of this world, had come.

And so I walked for hours. The wind was harsh, the ground hard as a rock. Finally, I was forced to rest. My journey slipped into its third day.

The next morning I began to walk again, but I’d had no water since leaving the giant and his companion, and I could feel dehydration stealing over me. The air was cold and devoid of moisture, and it seemed to suck all of the life out of me. Bleary eyed, I turned my gaze to the horizon and saw the most wonderful sight of my life. I could see a person, in the distance!

I ran towards the man, who seemed to be made of snow, but upon arriving I could tell that he was not alive. It was a statue, carved out ice, apparently swept here by the great storm that had brought my people as well. Once, he might have held something. A sign, or perhaps a portrait or picture. Now there was nothing.

I stood before the snowman, and for some reason I was angry. Was he assembled by my creator? Was he sent here to mock me? I was going crazy with loneliness here in the desert, and I was dying of thirst, and here was a statue in the shape of a man, made of water. The chill in the air prevented the ice from melting, and I could not get a drink. The ice was too strong for me to break any chips off. It was a lost cause.

Perhaps I was already going crazy. Perhaps it was all a mirage.

There was no end in sight for me. Hours after I left the snow man, I tripped on an invisible stone in the island desert, and felt myself pitch forward onto the ground.

It was too much. I couldn’t continue. My thoughts turned to my home, my beautiful tree. This whole journey had been in folly. True, I had perished and spent an eternity in darkness. But who was I to question the reasons of the gods? Who was I to leave what I had been given, a second lease on life, just to seek the purpose of my good fortune? Somewhere behind me was the home I had always known, shining brightly, inviting all that should pass by to stay a spell and enjoy the hospitality afforded within. In my hubris, I had ignored the gifts I had been given to seek the knowledge from which had conceived all. And now it was my fate to die in the desert, alone and afraid.

Just as my spirit was preparing to flee my mortal form, I heard something in the distance. Water. Running water. Could it be?

I stood, my legs barely supporting my weight, and stumbled forward. After only a few steps I could see the end of the desert on the horizon. I shuffled faster, regaining my lost strength. Could it be true? Yes, it was there! Running water! A river!

Only…it lay at the bottom of a great chasm. As I approached the edge, I could see that the next phase of my journey had begun. I drank from a rivulet that fed the great torrent below, and stared out over the gap. I could see a mammoth snowman, perhaps forged from the same ice as my friend from earlier, only a thousand times larger. Could it be that the figure in the distance was the “she” spoken of by the giant Vermillion? Only time would tell. First, I had to find a way to cross.