Whenever and wherever there is a Quest, I exist. I have come into being as many lives, in many times, on perhaps infinite worlds, or perhaps different aspects of one world.
I do not know why I exist, what I truly am, or what my ultimate fate must be. I do not know to whom I am writing now, or for what purpose I write.
You may have heard of some of my existences: I am James Kirk, I am Paul Atreides, I am Arthur Pendragon. I am Galahad, I am Carmody, and I am Dexter; I am Ransom and I am Moonflower.
Most of my Quests are not as famed; you have never heard of Rick Maclaurin, or Peter Douglass, or Sen Long'Lo, or Zarrog.
A Quest is sometimes a small thing, as small as saying a single word, and sometimes larger than a single lifetime.
I am writing in particular about one of my quests. I do not know whether it was my first or my most recent, my most dangerous or my easiest; it is just, for some reason, the one which I remember best.
I came into being, this time, on a marble staircase. Sometimes I begin life as an infant, and grow to adulthood before realizing my Quest; this time, I began as an adult.
I was standing on a staircase of black stone. Above, I saw an open archway and daylight. Below, I saw an iron door, ajar, leading into darkness.