Beyond was no golden city, no fiery pit. Only a long room with a wooden floor, and at the far end, a woman sitting on a stool, mending a fishing net. She looked up.
“It was always ready,” she said. “You were not.” beldziant i dangaus vartus
“The gate was not ready,” Beldziant replied. Beyond was no golden city, no fiery pit
A voice came from within the arch—not loud, but as clear as water from a spring. “Beldziant, you have measured every threshold but your own. Build this last door, and you may enter.” Beyond was no golden city
“I have no wood left,” he whispered.