I pass under an archway, enter a pretend village where pretend peasants barter and where, I suppose, heroes and heroines are supposed to have grown up, never guessing they were special until adventure presented itself and they denied, then finally accepted, the call. Or maybe they always knew they were special, but hid themselves among the plebes anyway, aware of bad prophecies, jealous stepmothers, violent husbands, the danger in being seen.
