In the hall of souls, they reminded him of his destiny.
There, all was light, a pulsing gold like the heart of a candle flame, filling eternity. The speakers were pillars of fire within the fiery light, and their words were sparks. They, the Immortal Ones, had neither faces nor voices, choosing to remain in their true forms. Only one chose to keep her form for she, the golden dragon, was the messenger of the light. He had no face or voice either, because he was weak, a little destiny, his grave task to be done, his long road to ride, a burden that he must lift willingly.
"You stand before us with a choice" the dragon rumbled, echoing the words of the pillars of light "Are you certain this is what you wish?"
He stuttered trying to think of words to convince them, to convince himself. But in the hall of light, there were no lies. "My path is made", he replied steadily, "there can be no other way."
He felt their gentle sympathy touch him. "It is time to take your destiny in your hands. Will you remember?"
"I will try."
"Very well," the god studied him through the eyes of the dragon... ancient eyes that had seen the beginning of the land and witnessed the birth of a thousand races "the time has come to enter the Darkening Sun, a realm of fantasy, sorcery and adventure that will test the power your mind... and the strength your heart."