Page 8 - The Devil's Arsonist

However, it was not always so, for in the past when I first lived it was not as rare, but
nevertheless still uncommon even then. Yet, I knew a family of that name. And it was they
who were my forebears and the cause of all that I was and who I would become. They had, in
fact, only fanned the flames which their ancestors had begun in times even more distant from
the beginnings of my own holocaust on the innocent; in the time when the Romans ruled my
land.

I must make it clear from the very outset in these words I now do write, that I have been a
person, who for some reason once unbeknown to me, preferred the past to the present. From
my very earliest memories I have always felt most comfortable in learning of events, far
distant, and all but forgotten; lost in the closed pages of history, rather than those of the now
or those just gone from memory. My preferment for the past was also selective, in that some
eras were of greater interest to me than others; and then only particular aspects of them.
Furthermore, all were centred around England alone, and in particular London and the area to
its East and to its North.

My affinity for the past manifested itself in every aspect of the life I now lead. I not only
spoke in a manner better suited to a previous age, with words and phrases that were strange to
all those I met in this world of today. Even the very profession in which I was engaged was
most admirably suited to what I can only call my obsession to dwell in the past. This
obsession caused me in the middle of my life to abandon my then occupation in the modern
world; one which went against my very conscience and being; for it was entirely directed at
creating atomic weapons that used the same physics that enabled the Sun to shine and to give
life to our Earth. To my mind, I was aiding that which brought only death by a fire forged in
hell; one that could only bring upon Armageddon itself.

My complete transformation was brought about by embracing myself in the means to dwell in
the past, yet still barely exist in the present. I first studied the many records kept by state,
church and others. Then I learned to read and write the languages of bygone times; to a time
when scribes wrote in Latin; and the Royal Court of England spoke the Norman French of
William the Conqueror. I became proficient in the handwriting styles of these times; that very
few today will see anything but indecipherable words. I did not stop there; I went back in
time even further. I learned to read and write in the tongue of my Anglo-Saxon forebears; the
race that was the very origin of my now unique name. I also became fluent in Blazonry, the
language of Heraldry, whereby I could describe using its ancient words, the Heraldic
Achievement – the coat of arms, its helm and crest, along with its supporters and mottoes.

At the end of this prolonged period of study, I had evolved to enable me to practice a new
profession, that of a Genealogist; one familiar with and entirely at ease with the almost
myriad of documents that could tell me of my past lives. All such documents were known to
me in the most intimate of detail. I was without equal in this my true vocation, no other who
practiced the same, possessed the consummate skills I had now acquired. It was if it they
were not new to me; for none could acquire such proficiency as I had, without prior insight
into all that I now knew. But even all of this was not sufficient to satisfy my wish to be dwell
in the past, but yet disappointedly, be still forced to exist in the present. I had to do more to