9 August 2012
For century's ten fold I have wandered the earth. That was probably an underestimate truth be told. I no longer count time as you do. Not in days, not in months and certainly not in years. Time is non existent to me. It is just a word. When you have lived as long as I you would find that every single event that has happened to you and around you moulds and forms into one single happening. It stretches on forever, there is no beginning, no middle and no end. The story I am about to tell you will be laughed at by the academic types of this world, some of you will repost my story around the Internet. Some will dismiss it as a bad fantasy novel arguing that this can not be true, historical inaccuracies and all and some of you will take my story as the truth even though I can not provide one single shred of evidence. People are fickle when it suits.
I don't know what year I was born. Back then as far as I can remember, my people did not label the 24 hours you call a day with a static name. It makes me laugh, how simple life was back then. It was either the day of calving or the eve before harvest. Each one was unique. Family members would refer to that time when the goat fell ill and they would remember it when it was without the aid of a calander, it was important. Some though did keep track of the movement of the sun and moon, that same given incident might have been refered to as 3 full moons before the storm and so on. Equally as important. July 26 seems so formal in comparison looking back at it now.
I was born to a noble household or so I was told by my father, Venutius, High King of Βρίγαντες, or The Brigantes for those not familiar with this tongue. My families empire spanned almost all of England at its peak before slowly dieing off and spliting up into smaller independant tribes and townships. My father named me Marcus although I suspect this was not my birth name. I do know I was born before the Romans came and I was hidden away when they did. My mother a traitor, betraying her people, family and country. My father was killed in a rebellion against the Roman invaders, I do not know what happened to my mother nor do I care.
Marcus • Opuss № I