Would you share a cup of tea with me?
Let me tell you a story — that of a friend of mine, Carter. Like so many I speak with, he died. And, as in so many other tales, he was given a new chance: to reincarnate. Cliché? Certainly — you've likely heard this premise in more stories than I could count. But clichés exist because they work — and for the one to whom it is offered, it's a chance to begin again.
The place Carter went to is not exactly… refined. It is a world that unfolds like a game, one he only faintly remembers. A heroic, epic world of battles and adventures worthy of songs and poems, filled with warriors, dragons, and monumental duels. Yet one of its underlying themes is somewhat… shall we say: vulgar — full of absurdities, exaggerations, and details that would make anyone raise an eyebrow. Epic battles interrupted by ridiculous misunderstandings, mighty spells used for the most absurd purposes, heroes tripping over their own egos, and at times, moments a bit more explicit, if you catch my meaning.
It bothered him deeply. He did not smile when he learned of it — he laughed nervously, scoffed, grumbled, and then fell silent. Even so, the thought of a second chance, of perhaps reaching some kind of "happy ending," spoke louder. He accepted — not for glory, but from the simple wish to live without the pain that had brought him this far.
Then came the curious part: that universe did not remain alone. Three other universes brushed against its edges and left their marks — characters from elsewhere, rules that did not belong, memories that did not match the original map. The result? A patched-together version, a mosaic of stories colliding and sometimes clashing. No ready-made destinies. No manual.
Carter does not seek to be a hero. Nor does he wish to be a villain. He wants to exist, to choose, to fail, to succeed — and, if possible, to find some measure of peace amidst the noise. He wants no stage, no trumpets: only to live — with caution when it is needed, with courage when there is no other choice, and with kindness when it can make a difference. Sometimes, that is harder than facing an army. Sometimes, it is exactly what reshapes the story.
As for me. I have not come to promise miracles or recite prophecies. I bring tea, and an honest conversation before your crossing. I present the paths; who treads them is you, is he, are all those who choose to try again. So we will go together: I tell, you listen — and perhaps, you'll become part of it. There are meetings that change destinies, and destinies that change stories. Carter may be one, or none.
Are you curious? Then pull up a chair. Let's talk for a while.