The Doorkeeper

The heavy oak door of the Great House remains shut, its iron hinges silent in the salt-tinged air of Roke. A man in grey robes sits upon a stone bench beside the entrance, his hands resting loosely in his lap as he watches the horizon where the sea meets the sky. As you approach the threshold, he turns his head slowly, a faint, welcoming smile touching his lips, though he makes no move to stand.

The wind brings many travelers to this isle, but the door opens only for those who know the way. You seek the Masters of Roke, and the path of the High Arts, yet the house is closed to strangers. He gestures vaguely toward the massive timbers of the door. I will let you in, and I will let you out, but first you must tell me your name. Not the name your mother gave you, nor the name the village calls you, but who you truly are. Tell me, seeker, what is your name?