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Geal
Ros
I never was attached to that great sect
Whose doctrine is, that each one should select
Out of the crowd a mistress or a friend
And all the rest, though fair and wise, commend
To cold oblivion, though it is in the code
Of modern morals…
Percy Bysshe Shelley, "Epipsychidion"
Prologue
To the reader of this work, I say this:
This is not a story for the faint of heart, nor is it for one who expects their heroes to succeed. This, like most true stories, is fraught with the ugliness and beauty that only life can bring. I do not expect that most who discover this work (if there be any at all who do) will enjoy, understand or even believe the course my life has taken. To those who read and do not believe, I say that things happened as I have written them.
I saw it. I lived it. I was there.
Lady Salah Dubsgothian
The Road to Lindaryon
My story begins with my first journey to the Eldest City, the city of Lindaryon.
Of course, I was not born on the road, nor was I found in a gutter beside it. However, my life to that point was irrelevant, and in any event no different than any other young woman from a rustic noble House. Suffice it to say, I was born to House Lyndros, new made nobles in the dark times of the Long Struggle. I grew up loved by my mother, doted on by my father, and raised by their servants; neither truly had the time or the inclination to parenting. They spent their days together when they had the time, often excluding me entirely for the sake of time alone. I cannot blame them for this, for children are a trial, and at the time I confess I scarce noticed their absence. I instead spent my childhood learning the arts of magic. Since I could first open my inner eyes, I had been fascinated by the arcane arts. It was a vast and ever changing body of learning where I never grew bored and anyhow, what young mage could ever tire of calling storms and lighting candles with their mind alone? My tutor in such arts was an old man, well preserved in the manner of elfkind, with long iron-gray hair and a soft smile. He was always surprised by my thirst for knowledge, and was hard-pressed to keep me busy as I devoured book after book.