The man who forgot the Sky

He awoke to a humming sky and a sea of silver grass. Above him, the stars contorted like living symbols, maps he was unable to decipher. He didn't even know his name or his past. He had no purpose, no memories. He only had an odd compass around his neck. Its needle simply slowed while he walked, spinning pointlessly. As though looking for something or someone else rather than a location. With a heavy heart from not knowing, he got up and started to walk.

I. The Sounding Hollow

It was too quiet in the land. He tested his voice by speaking out loud, and it reverberated. but not in the same way. The echoes, instead, spoke words he had not yet considered. Whispering, "Keep moving," the hollow said." You're not lost. You're just getting started. The compass twitched in his hand as he traveled for what seemed like days. At last, it pulled to the east, into a fog-drenched woodland. There he saw a youngster, no more than ten years old, with long claws and vacant eyes, escaping stealthily from shadows. creatures of "what-would-have-been" and "what-ifs."

The man was unthinking. He simply shifted.

He swung at the closest shade and picked up a fallen branch. He fought, the boy hiding behind him. Like smoke, the shadows hissed and disintegrated. The child looked up as the last one disappeared. He grinned but was unable to speak.

The compass was glowing.

A change occurred within the man. It's a truth, not a memory:

"I might not recognize myself.

However, I might be someone else to someone else.

II. The City of Faces

He arrived in a gold-shimmering city a few days later. Each inhabitant wore a mask that was brilliant, delicate, and lovely. Some appeared to be gods, heroes, lovers, or rulers. "Why?" the man said.

A merchant wearing a mask declared, "This is who we want to be." "So, we are."

They also provided him a mask. One that demonstrated his strength and respect. Another, calm and sage. Another cherished and recalled. He almost agreed.

He then noticed an elderly woman in the square, gasping for air while wearing a bulky, jeweled mask. Nobody gave her a glance.

Gently he knelt and took it off. When she gazed at him, tears ran down her cheeks, but underneath was a face tattered by age and grief.

"You have courage," she said. “You wear no face but your own.”

Others took note. Others, shaky with relief, took off their masks as well. The man kept his identity a secret from them. He was unable to. However, he might be present.

The compass pulsed as well.

He reasoned, "I just need to decide who I want to be; I don't need to know what I am."

III. The Moving Mountain

All the solutions were said to be hidden in a mountain. The sky would reveal your true name, your destiny, if you made it to the top. He immediately set off.

However, the mountain shifted. Always ahead, always out of grasp, it floated across the plain. He chased after it. Weeks passed. He became weary and resentful. Right up until he noticed a woman attempting to cross a chasm. She made a slip. He apprehended her.

Others trailed behind him—lost travelers, seekers, searching for meanings that never seemed to stay. He started assisting them. displaying routes. caring for injuries. putting hands together. And an odd event took place. The mountain ceased to move. He no longer needed to, not because he pursued it. They climbed together.

IV. The Summit

In a voice more profound than recollection, the wind murmured at the summit of the mountain.

"What are you looking for?"

For the first time, he did not inquire about his identity as he stood beneath the stars, those odd, fluctuating stars he had seen since the silver grass. He extended his hand into the heavens. There, he inscribed his own name. He didn't get one.

Not one from the past. One that was molded by each action, decision, and life he had a hand in. The compass grew dimmer. Fulfilled, yet not dead.

Epilogue: The Compass

The compass he maintained. not to adhere to it. But to transmit it.

To the next lost person. On to the next stray query.

Since he had discovered:

There is no hidden treasure in purpose.

It is a route that is created by moving forward, even when you are unsure of where it will lead, one decision at a time.

He couldn't recall his former self.

However, he turned into a memorable figure.