Behind every great hatred is a love story. For I am a man who has known and tasted love. I say __ man_ because that is how I know myself. Look at me, and what do you see? Do I not take the form of a man? Do I not feel as you do, suffer as you do, love as you do, mourn as you do? What is the essence of a man, if not these things?

Beware, William of Mercia, you heeded not our warnings and you can no longer turn back, but the path ahead is strewn with danger, to you, and to those who travel with you. This is but the beginning. The legions of the underworld await you, armies will seek to destroy you, but only you can know the true course.

Because what__ lifeWithout happinessAnd where__ happinessWithout risk

The practice of love offers no place of safety. We risk loss, hurt, pain. We risk being acted upon by forces outside our control.

History warns us ... that it is the customary fate of new truths to begin as heresies and to end as superstitions.

This is the world in which everyone is sensitised to risk but indifferent to fate.