We have always loved the worlds that laid beyond our reach, beyond our grasp. And since the dawn of time, we have travelled to reach them; those worlds so far away, so unknown, so dangerous and mysterious. Something pushed us forward, towards the unknown and it pulled us just as much as we pushed. Brave travellers left their settlements and set their foot into the worlds never seen. Fear that they felt must have been extinguished by the burning fire of courage, by the clearing mist on the horizon.
Since the first man became a traveller, much time has passed. He moved through the freezing snowstorms, slowly, yet surely; he saw the moving shadows of monstrosities that hurled towards the plains of grass and he followed them. The sparkling snow creeped into him, but he walked on, following the steps of herds. And he emerged from darkness and cold and saw the lands before him; so green, so empty and yet so full of life. He ran with the horses until they became his friends, he followed the bulls until they became his gods. There was everything around him, but he needed more; he knew that the world is bigger and that there are much more lands to see and feel. He caged his friends to chariots and let them guide him towards the unknown. And the horses rushed across the plains and deserts and other people looked at the traveller, amazed. He conquered the land behind him and made beasts his friends. His chariot was like the sun and he was the creator of myths. Every man followed the traveller, for he knew what was there to see in the future. And they reached the roaring waters; rivers that could drown mountains, lakes that engulfed worlds and then, the sea. The sea he saw was the universe. It roared like nothing that ever graced the Earth. The waves he met told him they came from afar, where they met others just like him, the ones who stood on the brink of the universe, looking at the endless mass of creation. And the traveller looked at his chariot and wished it could carry him across the seas. The sea laughed and began to dance and the traveller decided to build a chariot that will dance with it. And they danced. His chariot turned into a ship, lead not by horses, but by the winds. He let the winds guide his dance with the sea and his journey across the waters began. The traveller saw beasts of the water, the ones who needed no ships to dance with the sea and he saw the mountains rising from it, defying the cruel sea. No matter how long the sea tried to beat them, the mountains stood there, as guardians of men. But the traveller knew that the sea is not their enemy; it is their most valued friend, the one who connects all the travellers. So he travelled with it, and not against it. And the sea loved the traveller for it, and the winds graced him like the horses before them.
The traveller connected the world and soon, knew how to move along the lands. He paved the grass with roads and he conquered the sea with routes where the winds always blew in his favour. And when he was good, they carried him, and when he was bad, the storms drowned him. But the traveller did not give up. He knew that there are more lands to conquer, more lands to see, more lands to own and travel across. So he stood before the biggest sea yet, the one without an end, and dared to cross it. Exactly because he dared, the sea was not angry and storms did not stop him. The traveller was graced with the new land, the one he dreamed about in the days long past, when he followed the monsters out of the snow. He always knew that there is more.
Travellers met and created the new world. And after the wars amongst the dead, the traveller realized that the land and sea are no longer enough. He looked up to the sky and saw the smiling clouds. If the wind carried him across the sea, it could carry him across the sky. And the traveller turned his chariots and his ships into machines that defied the land and the sea. He could finally fly. From the air, his lands and his seas looked so tiny, so small and insignificant. So he decided to leave them. And the first traveller pushed the Earth hard and left the world. Once, he feared that the edge of the world is at the first mist, at the first mountain, river and the sea. And now there were no more edges but the one in the sky and he learned that is was not the edge at all. The traveller saw the Earth beneath him, so small and he was surrounded by the darkness again. He always believed that the sky will be bright and not like the darkness from which he first came. But then he understood that his tiny little world is only one amongst the many out there and that he has not met all the travellers. There are travellers all around him, the ones just like him, looking at the distant sparkling lights and thinking about the worlds far away, worlds that we may never be able to travel to. The traveller, however, smiled. He knew what he thought when he saw the sea. The universe is nothing but another sea, so vast, dangerous and mysterious, but ultimately, the sea that connects rather than the one that separates. The traveller waved at the distant stars, knowing that other travellers cannot see him, but also knowing that they too are waving. Maybe with their hands, maybe with their weapons, but they are waving, because every traveller can feel others like him and their common longing to meet, longing to be carried by the horses and the winds.
This is for all of them, the travellers, who ventured into the unknown and brought the world together.