How much time has passed? Decades? Centuries? I stopped keeping track long ago. Even then, the contrastingly vibrant years spent in my homeland are still vivid in my mind.

  Oh, how full of vigour my young self was. A living legend amongst all denizens of the world, despite only being at the young age of eighty. So, when I was wrenched from my land without any warning and tasted death first time, my spirit never wavered, and I was confident I would overcome this trial, just like I had with all the others life had set before me.

  But it was not so simple. No matter how many trials I overcame, or how far I pushed, there was no end in sight. A never-ending hell. For the first time since my childhood, I felt frustrated, restless, scared, feelings I previously believed were now foreign to me.

  My only solace lay in the fact that I wasn’t alone, and that others were also trapped within this dreamlike prison. But the passage of time is cruel to an elf like me. The acquaintances I found myself stuck with passed on, one after the other, leaving me alone to endure the hopelessness of my own situation, and also the hopelessness of others. Hope turned into desperation, and desperation into acceptance. The long-life span which I believed to be a blessing, had turned out to be the worst of curses.

  Although these acquaintances disappeared without even a trace, new ones continued to take their places. I have witnessed the slow unravelling of a young soul’s sanity at the hands of time and at the mercy of the trials. Going through the same phases that I had, it all is reminding me of my past, of what has been and what could’ve been. After witnessing all this, not even for a second do I believe that anyone will manage to conquer this nightmare. So, upon seeing yet another young soul, more so, the youngest I’ve seen here yet, all I felt was pity and a deeper, heavier sorrow than before.

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  Why are we all even here? Why must we all bear this endless cycle of suffering and solitude? No matter how much I scavenged that library and its texts, no definite answer could be found. The closest thing lay in the first book I read upon arriving.

  ‘Specific character traits’, it says. But why? Why must the Gods need to go through all these steps in order to locate one specific being? Are they bored and get entertained by our torment? Or do they lack the power to find what they seek on their own? It is difficult to believe that the gods—beings beyond comprehension would—struggle with such a task. Just what could possibly be worth all this?

  No matter how much we ponder it, one truth remains: No amount of pondering will free us from this place. We are all trapped, and doomed to a certain, lonely, death.

  And yet… despite losing all hope myself, I still hope for the success of others. No matter how unlikely or impossible it seems, I find myself longing for someone—anyone—to succeed.

  I have finally grown old. My body is weary and it’s certain that my time here is finally nearing its end. So, in one last act of defiance against this unjust universe, no matter how sceptical I may be, and how deluded these thoughts may seem. I will be praying for your success, young one.

  As is all I can do, and to abandon even that would be to forsake the life I had once lived.