Prologue
It has been said that to record the events of the past is to in some way relive them if not in body, but in mind. These events, which I have reluctantly chosen to record, transpired more than two decades ago. The details of a time nearly forgotten by the aged, and barely spoken of by the young, have left a bittersweet taste on my lips. Yet, it is no wonder that the wonders of years gone by are still translucent visions of my life, my loves, my conquests, and to my misfortune my failings.
As I reflect on my past, I realize now that it is more than just a patchwork of years depicting my life’s encounters. Instead it is the culmination of this patchwork, of failings and achievements, which created this thriving society, and for this I have no misgivings.
This land, which I preside over, at first glance, was nothing more than compatible farmland from which its inhabitants had raped it of its beauty. It was only after life had dealt these people a bad hand that the splendors and majesty of this earth came to be appreciated. The land is surrounded by estuaries of crystal waters flowing through the pastures of rolling green hills. These glistening waters provided safe haven from expatriate intruders and allowed its people to live on with a complacent promise of tomorrow. Surrounded by a thicket of statuesque trees, which enveloped the voluminous clouds, these people came to know safety and in doing so, also met with ambiguity. This encounter proved nearly fatal to its subjects.
There is no other place on earth, in as much accordance with my knowledge of the vast surrounding lands that could compare to this mystical and magical environment. This my home, once nearly destroyed by avarice and lust, now flourishes in the promise of forgiveness.
I am an old man now. I have seen the perils of youth, experienced the trance of two loves, and tasted the wisdom of age. In so much as I have lived my youth not giving a damn, I have aged with its curse of neglect on my soul. I am the talisman of my time who so unfortunately must record the events of the past. It is with me that they began; it is with my survivors that they must live on.
King William of Crystaldom
1143 AD