“This is a story as old as time.  Some would say older.

 

One door closes, another one opens.”

 

 

—The last words written by the Prophesied Traveler

Prologue

 

 

“You think outside the box.” 

“You’re wise beyond your years.” 

“You’re an old soul.” 

I’ve heard these phrases time and again, uttered with knowing looks and sly grins, as if they were amazing consolation prizes for not fitting in.  Ironically, I have cookie-cutter parents, a cookie-cutter diploma, and a cookie-cutter acceptance letter from San Francisco State University.  People say I’m special because I’ve written a few stories (which I never finished, surprise surprise), I have a big vocabulary, and I occasionally make a profound observation.  

To top it all off, my name is Jon Dough.  Yep—like what they call an unidentified body. 

I thought I was destined to toil in an office, doomed to monotony and enslaved by routine.  I thought I would fade with the passing of years, reminiscing wistfully about what might have been. 

But then I entered a parallel dimension, complete with dragons, dog-warriors, and evil sorcerers.  Crazy, right?  A nameless kid from San Francisco, whisked away into an epic fantasy world.  One day I’m sitting in English 101, the next day I’m exploring an arcane empire.  

I met strange and wondrous people and creatures.  Rennarean Arteris, Arganti Knifelock, the Watchers of Erendor…I could go on, but you get the point.

It all started when I opened a door. 

A door into Evermoor.