I woke up in Godsmirror, a vast salt flat that hardly sees rain. When it does, the myth goes that the flat is so large that God could see his own face and be blinded, and so the name stuck. I don't know when, but it rained.

My body was surrounded by an inch of water that stretched as far as the eye could see in all directions. Piles of salt pierced its placid surface, standing as monuments to the wind. A great shadow stretched across me, granted by the enormity of the Kings - two marble spears that dared to pierce the sky in their ascent. As I grew aware of my position, of the duality of wet and dry, a thought emerged from the depths of my mind:

Go west. Keep walking until the horizon bleeds fire. Someone there is waiting for you.

Impossible, I judged. I traveled this world from end to end. There's no other souls here.

When I first landed on Dur, the mission was simple - gather some samples, report back to the Merchant Fleet, grab a permit for planetary harvest from the Galactic Council, and return with the fleet so we could get to work. Dur, as far as we knew, had some resources that the Cosmic Bazaar had no claim on. The salt from Godsmirror was one such resource.

I didn't expect to run into the snowstorm that obliterated my ship.

Ganna's Folly is a small island southwest of Godsmirror. Named for the fabled explorer Ganna of Ferrous IV, the island has an anomalous snowstorm that batters at its sands perpetually. Contrarily, the island is never iced over. The terrain and plant life remains relatively warm, but good luck surviving long enough to dig a hole. If the wind or the cold don't get you, the ice spikes will.

And get me, they did. Tore straight through my ship and sent me hurtling into the sea. Thank God for the ejector seat.

Long story short, I've been stranded here for five years. Been wandering for so long that my clothes have torn to shreds from the wear and tear. Travel has been tough; survival, even tougher. At times, I've fallen unconscious. A few times, I could've sworn that I died from one danger or another, and yet, like clockwork, I end up back in Godsmirror. Whether or not it rained is how I gauge my luck. If it rained, it's a good day to travel.

I've never traveled far enough to see the horizon "bleed fire," which is strange, considering I've spent far too much time circling Dur, looking for someone - anyone - to help me get off this planet, but I'm not going to stop until I find a solution. I've got someone waiting for me back home.

Go west. Someone there is waiting for you.

I got to my feet and checked the sky. The sun was on its rise. I've been here long enough to know it sets in the west. Checking the shadow of the Kings, I followed it as it stretched across the salt flats. As my eyes met the horizon in the distance, a peculiar pillar of light emerged, notching the horizon with a temporary mark.

Taking a heavy, deep breath, I rolled my shoulders and shook the dust from my bones, disturbing the mirror as I started to make my way west.