Valley of Gold Son of Ra

Alone again; nothing new, though Fable had somewhat hoped that Sockeye would stick around as the others before him had not. In the end, though, most people were much like places. They stayed in one spot their whole lives, in mind or body, and moving on meant leaving them behind.

Fable was most people.

He would never admit it, of course — but neither would he be responsible for holding anyone else back. There was more out there for men like Sockeye, more than Fable had to offer. So he was alone again, yes, but it was his own choice in a way. His own doing. Sockeye might have stuck around as the others had not, if only Fable had given him the chance. Now they would never know.

It was for the best, really. Bored as ever by the world and what it had to offer, Fable eyed the dark gilded figure from across the grassy plains without moving an inch from where he reclined. Already he was judging the man — and would continue to silently judge him until he moved on, all else being equal.