"Why don't you just draw the lines...well, in a line."

"Because that would be monotonous."

"I like monotonous!"

"You like basically everything I dislike."

"Exactly."

"Well, then...I like monotonous things. They remind me of the beauty of simplicity, of the gratitude we should feel for what we have, of humility before a majestic world..."

She buzzed again, apparently trying to sigh. "Oh, I'll leave you. Listen to your own voice. Bye!" Design jumped off his shoulder, then flew, as quick as a windspren, far away. He sighed as she did that. Finally! It's over.

He raised his eyebrow at that thought.

"All stories have an ending, don't they?" Hoid filled the air with dust that came out of his sleeves. That dust took the shape of a fiery bird he knew from several mythologies. A bird that would build a nest whenever it lived over five centuries. Then, that bird would burn, leaving a single egg behind.

"One story begins, just to let a dozen others to proceed from it. Because of that, we often value the journey we take in the stories that are told. I myself have taken the beginning and the middle as more important than the ending. After all, those are the Ideals. 'Journey before Destination!' every Knight Radiant says."

The bird then burst into flames and the sparkles fell onto the ground. "And yet...isn't the ending an integral part of the story? Imagine the story going on and on, and on, spreading into the countless threads that have no ending of their own. A storyteller who is just making up everything as he goes and does not have a vision on how to end the tale he is telling? That is...well, bad might be the wrong word. No one gets to judge art. And the tale that does not end can still be good. But that is, in every philosophy, a lazy storyteller. Of course, unless the Old Nick catches up to them...though I do have a bit of a privilege when it comes to that issue."

Hoid picked up the dust that fell and played with it. Making circles in it, he put the other hand over it and shook it. When he removed the other hand, on his palm was resting a golden egg. "And, you see, that makes me ponder a question. What if we took all stories that were ever told and told them again? And all of them, without exception, independent of personal taste. Gather them without any sort of prejudice: stories of love and passion, of hatred and war, of revenge and bitter rivalry, of wits and jokes, made for others to laugh at. You could take all those stories and weave them in a great, beautiful tapestry. And mind you, you must not leave out a single part, because that will create a hole that cannot be filled by anyone or anything else."

He reached for his coat and took more dust, while not letting go of the egg. Then he blow the other dust and let another creature fly through the air. The man's second best friend, only white like a star and winged like an eagle, played in the air. A few curious windspren approached to see what it is all about, passing through the little horse they had never seen before. That put a smile on his face. "What would be that story's ending? Every story exists in isolation. The prince went there, conquered kingdoms, married the queen and became the hero. Meanwhile, the peasant learned his neighbor has been stealing his milk every day and has finally confronted him about that at the tavern. Then there is the drunkard at the tavern who made a tremendous progress: that day he only had four instead of five bottles. Praise him!"

A certain windspren seemed to have realized the trick. In a manner Hoid perceived as spite, the spren flew right through the illusion, then flew above, leaving his residue behind. "But what if those stories united? What if they came together? Maybe that is the purpose of stories, to have them all gathered and built upon one another like stones that make up a house. Maybe, by trying always to tell the stories that are just completely different from the ones that came before, we are missing the..." He blinked. He just realized he almost uttered the word "point" in the monologue about art. He shook that thought off. Holy Valar, the age might be finally getting him. "Anyway, what if those stories married one another? What sort of talent would that take? What sort of skill would that demand? Would it be a task so beautiful and rewarding or one that only a fool would dream of attempting to fulfill?"

The pegasus stopped moving and looked at him. Suddenly windspren all stood in place as well. "What is certain is that it would be the Story of stories, the Tale to end all tales - it would be It, the True Story. Yes, that is what I am talking about. That Story is what moves through everything, through the stars and world, through the soul of every creature that breathes. Our small acts and small reasons are parts of the Story. So that Story would be the fulfillment and the endpoint of everything we do! That means there are no minor or major players in it - we are all equally significant. And that is beautiful to some. To others, though, it is a terrifying thought."

Other sorts of spren appeared from the ground, flying around him. He could be very certain that those were curiosityspren. Hoid sat down, still holding the egg and let out a deep sign. "Nevertheless, it would be a great thought. Can you imagine what would be the conclusion? Or what would be the satisfying conclusion? Is there a possible conclusion? Or is this story supposed to continue without end? To be told and added to, making us all tired, tearing us apart and stepping over us like ants?" He supposed ants would be the parts of that story as well, though. "Oh, my goodness, what great that is potential, both for triumph and misery. It is something we can either only imagine or only experience. Dare I say that art can't put it into words. But art can show why it is so hard to put it into words. The ending we build, the lives we lead, the foundations we set, it is all a part of greatness. Of Beauty that we hope is real, of Goodness that we hope is genuine. And of the True Story, one that we want...no, need to see finished."

He raised his hand and the pegasus dissolved into dust again, returning to his hand. With the other still open, Hoid made a small bow to the spren, honoring the one that was their grandparent as he always did. Then he turned to the other side and made a step. "And that might be the answer to the most important questions of life, my dear ones."

Midius...

He froze. Unaware, he closed his hand, letting the sparkles fall to the ground, uniting with the earth they came from.

Midius.

That name only a few, very few knew. But for this he only needed to hear the voice a second time.

Did you really think you could from me? From us?

The chuckle echoed all around. Hoid did not dare to move. Only his body made actions, letting the sweat roll down his face. "How?" His mouth spoke out of nowhere. "I...I was here..."

You fell for Rayse's trick, I see? Yes, that was a good plan. At least something useful from him before he died.

"Wha...what?!"

Oh, you did not know? Yes, yes, I should have known. He is the smarter one.

Thoughts ran through his mind. Rayse is...dead? "But...I spoke..."

Oh, that is the new one, Midius. The Great Lord prefers him over Rayse. Honestly, so do I. Rayse was...unworthy of the power and mind he held. Of course, so was Tanavast unworthy of Tulkas' power.

You are all unworthy.

That was it. His body made a response his mind would change nothing. He started running over the empty field, and dozens of fearspren ran right behind him. He was jumping, moving away from everything in the way, not caring about the logic that spoke in his head. It was all he could do to shake off the terror his whole being was now subjected to.

One goal. A single, sole goal in the entire Multiverse - to hide from the Hand of the Dark. But Sauron had found him.

Run! Sauron continued to chuckle, as loud as several feet before. Run all you want, Midius - it does not matter. It is over.

"Design!" he yelled, in just pure instinct. "Design!"

Sauron just laughed harder.

Hoid looked back at the rock he stood by a few moments before. The spren themselves all seemed to ran from it, going each to different directions. Hoid shook his head and stood in the place. The laughter that continued did not fade, no matter how far he ran.

There, there. You have gotten smarter over the ages. Good. You will not stay away no matter how hard you try to hide.

One goal. He had just one goal.

Do not be afraid - I will not kill you tonight. In fact, I will not even take you. You can stay here and see it all end. I will make sure you are the last to see.

You spoke of endings, Hoid. Do not worry - the Great Lord Melkor has prepared the End. Until we meet, my old friend.

To an eye nothing changed. The wind still blew and everything else stood still. But Hoid knew that the presence had left.

He sat down and covered his face, as if ashamed of the entire world.

It was worse than he thought it would be.