Sparkling in the eternal sun, a single mound of water provides a frame of reference upon the broad expanse of green which stretches away into infinity. Behind and just to the right, an ovoid yellow mountain leaps from the plain, an announcement of where I have been. Slowly, almost too slowly to notice, the surface of the world undulates beneath my feet as I survey the path I am planning to follow. I pause to consider that subterranean movement. Has it just begun, or have I been too preoccupied in my travels to be aware of a constant in this life? Where does it come from? Perhaps the Lurking Gods, circling beneath the shadows of the world, eager to devour the unwary traveler, stir the world's foundations as they slip by on patrol. Or it might be the passing of one of those Herculean otherworlds, which growl as they eclipse the sun, which is shaking the ground on which I stand. No matter, for the world goes on in its timeless march and I have far to travel. Something draws me onwards--perhaps the hint of other lands to explore; perhaps, as had been spoken last hour at Conclave, the insane dreams of a mind too long on this world. I must go on, if only to reassure myself that I am still here.

Much time passes and I reach the place where the paths intersect. This is truly the center of the world--all paths save one travel uphill. And such hills! They rise to meet the sun in the west and also the east. To the south is the path that I have been on. It is wider than the others, except the one which leads to the underworld in the north. If I were to go that way, I would surely meet those Circling Gods.

The elders at Conclave told me that it was foolish to make this trek. Gobar himself said that he knew of one who had once made the journey. That one had returned after many hours and was cast to the Circling Gods for crying out insane words in Conclave about other worlds, just like ours. Perhaps he was right, though. How could we be so lucky to own the only world? Besides, where else might the Giant Lurkers come from? Sure, they look something like the Circling Gods, but they reside above, not below, and certainly not on our world. At least not often.

I will follow the sun to the west. As I continue my journey my thoughts return to my youth, many hours past. I see the others, the children of the world--carefree, unconcerned with matters known only to the elders. We ate, we played, we basked in the eternal sun and huddled in fright and chill as the Growlers sped past. Sometimes a huge tube fell from the sky then would streak away to some unknown destination...far beyond imagination, into infinity. Once such a tube screamed past the world with a Circling God chasing it toward the Growler. That was the only time I have ever seen all of a Circling God. I think it was smaller than the Growler, but it was still many mountains in volume--much bigger than a Lurker. And often we would sit for many minutes, staring at the Sky Children. How we envied them! How free they must be, squirting here and there on their silken wings! But when they come down to the world, how clumsy they are!

The top of the world is coming--my legs tell me that the slope is easing. What will I see when I get there? I hope it's not just more hills. I think if that happens, I'll just lay down and hope a skytube comes to crush me. There, just a few more steps and I'll know. It's...magnificent! The world falls away to the west in a gentle slope. Far, far away I can see the edge. Water is everywhere. And beyond that...beyond the water...it's another world! I can see it--green plain rising gently from the water. Rising, rising, and then a mountain, just like ours! If I turn, I can see more worlds--as far as the heavens above, there are worlds without number. Could there be something else? Could there be other...beings...looking at me as I stare at them?