Those words were one of the many rumours whispered about me during years of absence. I have now returned from the lonesome but sacred life of the mountain hermit to confirm the validity of this rumour to you, my dear friends and readers. I am not dead. In fact, I am more alive than ever. I will now, tell you about what I experienced during my years of seclusion.
After I returned from the blessed land of Lynnwood I immediately turned my focus east and like a modern day Marco Polo, I, with a company of fourteen donkeys and six horses left what was known, in search of what had been promised.
After many months of wandering, we finally set foot upon the golden shores of the promised land and entered into a mutual agreement with the lord of the Arc. An agreement which details I am not at liberty to discuss. Either way, I soon discovered that I had no idea of what I was supposed to do. I was like a blind knight, fighting a dragon he could not see, knowing he could do nothing but keep swinging his sword and having faith in that he would eventually pierce the beast in its heart before himself being swallowed in its flames. And indeed, what to everyone was obviously impossible was done and the dragon cried its last demonic cries before falling into the abyss, never to return.
If you have not figured it out by now, what I am trying to tell you, is that I entered university and found a girlfriend. I apologize in advance for insulting you by telling the obvious but bear in mind that future historians might not experience the same kind of natural understanding of these manners of speaking and writing that we are so used with in our era.
Either way, I have been to Taiwan once and I am soon to return for a second time. I have finished a marathon once officially and unofficially many more. I have also mastered the art of riding the iron beast that lives of the dead from since long forgotten times.
This might be a bit early for me to say good bye since I have been gone for so long but it is time for me to go, hopefully to return sooner the next time.