The beginning of the intro to my upcoming fantasy:
I pen these words in a night lit only by an oil lamp. Mayhap ’tis fitting, for I know not when we shall see the light again. I only know we shall. ’Tis not a question of if. I must believe this. I do believe this. I begin this chronicle just as the shadows begin to fall, but I shall end it in the light, though long may it be before I lay down my sword to take up my pen again.
My mind tells me I am mad to think the night shall ever end. It remembers well the last war where our brightest and boldest brother took up arms against us. After his defeat, our sister, Ceinwen, pled with the One not to destroy him. We could bear not his utter loss, despite all the horrific deeds and terrible suffering he wrought. We each buried part of our heart, as we bound him in ensorcelled sleep in the heart of the mountain. We listened as Myrddin and Argante spoke the words of Sealing which cut him off from the ability to loose such havoc again. The war to defeat him cost us dear and the mortals who stood with us far dearer.
Now it begins again.