The Bridge That Asked for Names
Identity Carved in Crossing
A wooden bridge refused to let anyone pass without whispering their name. Those who lied heard the wood groan and warp. One wanderer, unsure of who he was anymore, stepped onto it. The bridge stayed silent. Taking a deep breath, he whispered the name he wished to grow into — and the bridge shone faintly, accepting him. Identity, he learned, is not only remembered but chosen.
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