Feeling both as if the book and I are all that exist, and that a million eyes bear into me from all sides, I kneel down to lift the book from its place. As my fingers touch the worn cover, a tingle passes through my arm, fading just as rapidly as the book assures me of its solidity.
The origin of everything in the valley is taken lightly for it shaded by a thousand years, but now, having witnessed the creation of something new, I realize that not only is the book extraordinary, but that all existence is a wonderous miracle. The book fell from a spot in the air. How is this any greater than my own becoming existence?
The book is heavy and thick, and the pages resist the pull of my delicate yet eager fingers. It is with a peculiar sense of caution that I lift the cover, and as the book opens in the physical world, a door opens in the world of fate. I can feel possibilities spanning out before me like an endless landscape of mystery and adventure.
The first page welcomes me with a single, humble word.
I reply with little more than a bemused smile, and turn the crisp page with a thumb. I regard the book as I do all books, now that it lies open in my hands. The magic within the pages is one I know well. It is the magic of writing.
As I look into the following page I am suddenly aware of the environment in which I stand. The birds fill the treetops with life. The wind whistles and whispers across the landscape. And the sun reads the passage over my shoulder, glowing upon every word at once.
It is with a most gracious honor that I offer this book to its one and only reader--the Alive. I am but the humble author of this book. Nothing more. I have no body as you do. I have no life to live but that which exists within the world of literature.
But you are everything. You are the Alive. Your spirit is connected with the harmony of nature while your feet stand upon the forest floor and your lungs breathe the air of reality. You have possibility. You have potential. You have a Quest.
And this book is your Guide.