Richard Dante’s black boots struck the white stone path in a steady, unhurried rhythm; a beating heart in an almost silent world. The stone sparkled with flecks of yellow and gold beneath cherry blossoms that swirled in the slight breeze. Some of the petals drifted into a placid canal running alongside the path, the mirror surface occasionally disturbed by black and blue koi. The fish watched the stranger with silver eyes. Eyes that seemed to know too much. He wore black trousers, a Colt Peacemaker strapped to his right thigh, a black shirt with white buttons, and a wide-brimmed black hat. Beneath the brim, his face was hard and determined. His pale blue eyes flicked toward the movement in the water, a scar flexing along his left jawline before his gaze returned to the road ahead.
The cherry trees lining the path and the far side of the canal were dense. Their branches reached upward and arched over the water and path, interlacing to create a pink tunnel that completely enclosed the walkway. The trees were in full bloom; Richard knew that this was their perpetual state. Petals fell silently like pink rain.
He walked the unchanging path for a time, though the word "time" held no meaning here, until he came to a fork in the road. An old man stood there waiting. It was the same man who had spoken to him in the saloon. His face was a mass of wrinkles, yet his eyes, which shifted colors as Richard watched them, were alert and probing, almost glowing in their intensity. He wore the same drab gray robe he had worn before. Even though the creature appeared human, Richard knew it was merely a suit; he had known that back at the saloon.
Richard remembered sitting at the corner table, sipping whiskey from a glass that never seemed to empty. When he first arrived, the saloon had been full of people from various times and places: a warrior in bronze armor, a samurai in traditional silks, and a woman in black robes with her hair braided in an intricate pattern. One by one, they had all left after speaking with the old man.
Richard wondered what they saw as they sat at their tables. He saw a saloon, but he knew that wasn’t what the others perceived. After what felt like an eternity, a word that felt familiar even if it was meaningless here, he was the only one left, aside from a bartender polishing glasses. The bartender was just window dressing, as was the saloon itself.
The old man had entered through the swinging doors, paused at the entrance, and then slowly approached Richard's table. He sat down with the heavy care of the elderly, and Richard smiled. This was an Old One, of course, not an old man. He appreciated the performance, though, the attempt to keep things somewhat normal and, most importantly, sane.
“You are a bounty hunter?” the old man asked.
“I have been known as such,” Richard said.
“A bounty hunter searches for someone who does not want to be found, yes?” The old man’s eyes peered at Richard with unnatural intensity. The colors shifted constantly, but that soul-probing gaze never wavered.
“Yes,” Richard answered.
“Then I have a job for you,” the old man said, dropping a gold coin on the table. Richard picked it up. On one side was a likeness of himself; on the reverse was a picture of a planet. Richard slipped the coin into his shirt pocket.
“Who am I supposed to find?”
“The most difficult quarry you will ever face,” the old man said. “Yourself.”
The old man stood and walked slowly back through the swinging doors. Richard sat for a moment before following. Behind the doors lay nothing, not darkness, not blackness, just nothing. Richard pushed through and found himself standing upon the white stone path covered in cherry blossoms. He started walking.
Now, at the fork, the old man pointed down a branch of the road that led into the cherry forest. “This is the foundation of all other paths,” he said. “This is the path of Wisdom.”
“Wisdom?” Richard asked, puzzled.
“You are a bounty hunter, are you not?”
“Yes,” Richard said, gazing at the path that disappeared into the trees.
“Wisdom is who you seek on this path. Find her, and your reward will be great,” the old man said. “You have the coin I gave you?”
Richard tapped the breast pocket of his shirt.
“Good. Keep it close to your heart. Do not lose it,” the old man warned. “As long as you keep the coin close while you follow the path, your world will be safe.”
“And if I lose it?”
“The coin is the world,” the old man said.
“What of the others?” Richard asked. “The ones that went before me?”
“You are standing here, are you not?” The old man countered.
Richard nodded and turned down the branching path.
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