To my loved ones, far and wide.
If you are reading this, you wish to know what has become of me I imagine. Unfortunately, such an answer will not be found here or anywhere else in your immediate midst for that matter. To find my fate, you will need to dig deeper into my past, present, and future and suck the marrow from this life of mine. I can tell you I am well, despite a few short-comings of my won. I am not in complete harmony with myself, but I am far from discontent. Such knowledge I have learned in my travels and in my talks with leaders, old and young. I have seen worlds that likes of which few will see with their own eyes. Mine are old and not what they used to be, but they still contain much life after what I have witnessed. Age might have caught up with me, but I still long to experience more, to embrace this life of mine. My life is not up....yet, and so I must seize the moment and walk in newfound affirmation of my place in this world, in all worlds for that matter. You are reading this wondering, "What has become of the man who began his lifestyle as a meek and mild individual, unsure of the path set before him." I shall tell you now. I was enlightened. I was met by a King.
He was unlike anyone I'd met before, and despite looking as if he were in his late 40's, the way he carried himself was as one who seemed to have existed for a far longer period of time. His eyes were graying and losing their color, but none of their fire. His expression showed one who had been through many trials, but regret was not shown on his face. His forehead wrinkled upon recognition of me, and when I proceeded to question him of his nature, of his history, I was greeted to a story for the ages. But first I must tell you, the reader, of his home.
Imagine the old castles and citadels from ages long forgotten, built with fine stone and marble and brick. This was this man's house. It was a majestic estate, set overlooking the sea, the sun setting noticeably in the horizon, almost as if he was one who greeted darkness and rose to meet it. The architecture itself was unlike anything I'd ever seen, parts of it reminding me of the old gothic cathedrals from past times, others seemed to come straight from old legends of haunted castles in the far-off regions of the east. And upon walking into this brilliant castle, you were greeted to the scent of fine perfume, not unlike that of love when it first greeted you at your doorstep.
Once you walked in, it was made clear that this was a place that despite being a product of ages come and gone, had held firm and grown to accomodate its guests. There was something both welcoming and also menacing as I stepped into the estate. The walls were laden with paintings that could've been centuries old, pictures depicting such things as nobleman and woman dancing, wars being played out in all their glory, and fantastic views of the countryside. Statues of what looked like former kings greeted you as you descended into the inner sanctum of this "humble" abode. It was all so marvelous, and yet still, there was an....otherworldly atmosphere surrounding this place, something different.
I soon found my way to the master of this glorious citadel of worlds come and gone. I found myself in what appeared to be this man's study. The smell of old books with their worn pages greeted me and as I looked to the walls, I soon realized that this was obviously the room frequented the most. Unlike the rest of the house, it showed no sign of age. I could imagine it looked exactly as it had when it was first construced. The walls were lined with shelves and the shelves held volumes and tomes the likes of which I hadn't seen before. Such knowledge must lay in these and I, being of a scholarly sort, could feel the excitement welling up within me. This lord was no doubt a lover of the written word as I was and it filled me with much happiness to be greeted with such fortuitous news. I could almost hear these books, speaking to me, saying "Come to us, devour our knowledge and wisdom." and I smiled.
My eyes then fell upon this lord of the estate. He reclined in a fine oaken chair, silver hair hiding his face from view as he porred over a manuscript of some sort, scribing God only knows in a fairly hasty manner, as if believing time was of the essence. He wore a fine purple suit, tailored to perfection, I presumed and his desk was piled with papers that no doubt contained whatever ideas or machinations the man had come up with. A beautiful rapier was displayed horizontally at the front of this desk he sat behind, and a glorious arched windown behind him, displaying a view know artist could ever replicate. All this assaulted me in such a way that I failed to soon realize that the King had ceased his writing and was gazing at me curiously, a grin played across his face, and he then inquired of me simply, "What do you seek?". Not a questioning as to why I'd intrude on his home or who I was, not so much as a mention of who he was, but instead interested in skipping the formalities, the small-talk we all dive into at dinner-parties, and instead drove straight into deeper states of conversation. I was thoroughly shocked, to say the least.
But the rest of my letter must wait, I fear, for despite the fact that I must get you caught up in my stories, I still have much to attend to. I can only hope that you'll be able to bare this pause and avidly await my next correspondence. Until then....