You stand at the crest of an icy mountain. The winter wind whips wildly around you, its frosty kiss biting at your stinging cheeks. The sound roars in your ears like the coming tide crashing against jagged rocks, drowning you in its splendor. Perhaps it echoes the pounding of your heart.

Let your eyes drift over the silent landscape. The world lies naked before you, vast and full of promise. Untouched and unsullied, it waits, sleeping innocuously while anticipating those to come. And those who have come, like you, are only fragments brushing against its consciousness before fading gently away. Though brief, these fragments nevertheless leave their mark. Your tracks have marred the pristine snow and distorted what little value it might have held.

It does not matter.

The savage promise of this place will brush your presence swiftly away. Here you are lost, abandoned, and yet free. Here you may lose yourself in the sheer magnitude of the void, but you may also find yourself. Stare down the plummeting cliff, where the snowflakes plunge to intimidating depths. And then, trembling, hold your breath and leap, unfurling your wings and taking liberated flight.

Perhaps you might think back to a choice you were once faced with, deciding between the icy light and the sweltering dark. Maybe instead of making this choice, you walked away. Maybe you never chose at all. Whatever you did, whatever path you carved for yourself in that twilight world, do not ever wish that you could take it back. Do not let regret eat at you for things you might have done or for things you might have explored.

Icy wind rushes by you, as sharp as needles and as swift as time. Perhaps the ground surges toward you at an exhilarating speed. Falling, plunging, diving… You know only that it will soon be over.

Finally you land, gently like a leaf whispering to rest on a soft carpet of grass. Silence reigns around you and maybe you wish you could go back to the mountain's peak, where everything lay before you, tempting and so uncomplicated.

And now you find that you again have a choice. The faintest trace of a path recently taken stretches like a memory before you. You can follow it, seeing where it leads -- although you may already know -- or you can turn away. If you have regrets, if you rest in twilight, hovering in the shadows wherever you might go, know that true twilight waits for you where this trail ends. Follow the path if you must. Go back and make your choice if you cannot move on. But if you have already chosen, you might find that things are not the same and the choices are no longer there.

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