Within the Sanctuary of Wings

PREFACE

Writing the final volume of one’s memoirs is a very peculiar experience. This book does not chronicle the end of my life, as I am not yet dead; indeed, I am still hale enough that I hope to enjoy many years to come. It does not even chronicle the end of my career: I have done a great many things since the events described herein, and am rather proud of some of them.

I suspect, however, that any sequelae would inevitably be a disappointment for the reader. Compared with what preceded it, my life in recent decades has been quite sedate. Harrowing experiences have been thin on the ground, the gossip about my personal life has long since grown stale, and although I am very proud of what I have learned about the digestive habits of the so-called “meteor dragon” of northern Otholé, that is not something I expect anyone but a dedicated dragon naturalist to find interesting. (And such individuals, of course, may read my scholarly publications to sate their thirst.) This book is not the conclusion of my tale, but it is the conclusion of a tale: the story of how my interest in dragons led me to the series of discoveries which have made me famous around the world.

For you, my readers, who are already so familiar with the tale’s conclusion, the version of myself I have presented throughout these memoirs must seem terribly dense and slow of thought. Consider me akin to our ancestors who believed the sun revolved around the earth: I could only reason from the evidence before me, and that evidence was for many years incomplete. It was not until I had the final pieces that I could see the whole; and acquiring those final pieces required a good deal of effort (not to mention peril to life and limb). I have endeavoured here to re-create the world as it seemed to me at the time, without allowing it to be coloured overmuch by current knowledge. For the inevitable inaccuracies and omissions that has entailed, I apologize.

But we must not rush ahead. Before we reach the end of my journey, there is more to be told: the scientific advances of the time; the various conflicts which came to be termed the Aerial War; and the fateful encounter which sent me into the dizzying heights of the Mrtyahaima Mountains. I hope my words may convey to you even a quarter of the sheer astonishment and wonder I experienced—and, perhaps, a fraction of the terror as well. After all, without both sides of that coin, you cannot truly know its worth.