In the midst of “Life”, I find myself in a deep, dark wood. I couldn’t describe how deep, or how dark, to you, dear reader, even if i tried …
so, maybe i should start with the Who, When, and How; before going on to attempt the What, Where and Why.
I say “Life”, because it has been made apparent – on at least three occasions to date – that I am immortal. Or – to be precise – there is Somebody Up There who is able to bring me back to life, from being dead . This creates less dread or fright in me than you might expect. (Well, at least its not the other way around, I say to myself.)
So – its a kind of Life. A “life”, amongst others. Which is true for everyone, i suppose… But for accident of birth, we might all be Kings. Or cabbages.
My name is The Maddener. Of course, I have other names, too: we all do. You do. If you feel really brave, or suicidal, ask your friends, or workmates, or even family! But dont blame me for how you feel if they go ahead and tell you these other names, the ones they call you behind your back. Such knowledge may not be welcome; these other names, this information, may unman you. (Or unsex you, as Lady Macbeth puts it).
Well, as you can guess, gentle reader – I asked. And i got what I asked for. Serves me right. They call me The Maddener. Because I’m Maddening. I drive people nuts. I aggravate them unto insanity. I perplex them into severe mental distress. This information i could have done without. But, I asked for it. And I got it. As i say, serves me right.
I should point out, Im not one of your youthful-and-energetic type Heroes. Im in early middle age, in the early Middle Ages. That’s a particularly painful combination, believe me. All you pallid, wide-eyed, Ophelian types, brought up on tales of medieval chivalry and courtly love – take heed. A world with no aspirin, cotton underwear, or antiseptic mouthwash is not a fun place to be, if youre over 21. And being over 21 is middle aged, in the Middle Ages. Most people dont make it to their teens.
But, here I am – a maddening Maddener; wending and weaving my way in a hectic and faltering fashion by turns… Only to find myself lost, lost, utterly lost, on a spiral path, with a heavy loot bag on my back, going Who knows Whither, and with only a strange, sort of canine creature for company; that, and a divine personage who seems to hold some supernatural sway over my comings and goings, my fortunes, my fate….