The Count intends on occasion, and this is the first, to take the time to dispatch writings to me that he wishes published on the site. Although he does not have a computer, he understands what they are and how the Internet works. Upon receiving these correspondences I type them up and post them to honor these wishes. Often times with his vast life experience, he makes references to things that might fairly confuse a contemporary reader. In the cases that I am able to recognize this, I will cite them and make a footnote to make things clearer. Any reader may reach out to me via email if they have further or more specific questions.
– Arenas

“I am more fit to die than people think.” – Lord George Gordon Byron

The prospect of immortality has dazzled man since the dawn of time. It is not without it’s shortcomings however. I have spoken to many men who suspecting that I am older than I appear begin to barrage me with sometimes-hostile questions about how I came to be what I am. Unfortunately no series of questions can get to the root of it or the root of my own question about it, the answer to which escapes me to this day. What a normally aging man does not realize is that while it may appear that I have what they want, it is they who are the lucky ones, they who are the ones that have a gift. I am cursed.

Time for me has slowed to a crawl. I am not an immortal. I just age at a very slow pace. I can still get sick and often do, and I can still be injured as well although I have outlived everyone who has injured me to date. Because of the retarded pace of my metabolism, one of the unpleasant side effects is that injuries take quite some time to heal. The more serious ones can take years, so I am very careful to avoid them. Once the novelty of perpetual youth wore off for me, I went through a period of wonder at the freedom of time that I had been granted. This was exciting at first, but only at first. I enrolled in the finest institutions, sought apprenticeships with scholars and studied a myriad of foreign languages, starting with Latin and the romances. Then I moved on to physical skills. This period for me was replete with fencing, war strategy, consumption of epic poetry and a broad immersion in fine literature as well as artistic painting, which I was not so good at. All the time in the world does not make one an artist. These pursuits were rewarding, but they lead me down another road that is often overlooked when people debate the merits of immortality. There is a limit to the quantity of knowledge that one can retain in a single mind, especially if you do not call upon it frequently. That realization dampened my thirst for knowledge, but fortunately I recovered it after a period of profound intellectual laziness.

What does one do upon the discovery that you may be afforded many lifetimes of experience? The first 70 or 80 years can be puzzling. It takes some time to realize that you are not aging like your peers or that time has seemingly stopped for you. These lessons are hard learned. Although my faith preaches celibacy, I find myself unable to avoid falling in love when I meet the right woman. It is that love that taught me the worst lesson of all. I cannot travel through life with a companion, because there is no companion who can match my pace. I have buried wives, lovers, children, grandchildren and more. I keep a watchful eye on my living descendents, a group which has grown to several hundred people. I had children with three wives and two lovers at varying times in history, but I do not wish to share more on that today.

Mankind was built to experience things that have a beginning and an end. To humanity, time sees infinite but it is in fact not. It is only meant to appear infinite to man. This is the way of things. Every day has a beginning and an end. Mankind is too small to change this and always will be, irrespective of his desire to develop God-like technology. People of my faith believe that all matter is inherently evil, and that the body is a prison fashioned by the apotheosis of evil, Rex Mundi¹. Following the doctrine of my faith, the only conclusion for me is that this long life that I am living is a punishment and I must have done something very, very wrong to deserve this tar pit of despair. I have attempted to end my suffering on three separate occasions by taking the endura². I met the requisite of serious physical illness only one of those three times, possibly condemning me to a longer life than I was originally sentenced to. Fasting is not very effective when you have the metabolism that I possess.

My faith, once common is now among the more rare in the world, and I am but a handful of practitioners. Since I am quite aware that very few readers will take this letter seriously, I offer it in selfishness. Drafting it has given me one of the few pleasures I now have in life, writing. In a few moments I will wash the ink from the bottom of my hand and seal this letter to my dear friend, Arenas. Then it will be one less thing that I must keep to myself in the infinite loneliness created by having more deceased loved ones than living loved ones.

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1 - Rex Mundi: The ancients knew the ‘man in the pupil of the eye of Horus’ was ‘Rex Mundi’, King of the Universe or King of the World. One of two Gods recognized in The Count’s Faith, Catharism. Rex Mundi is not worshipped by the Cathars, but feared and despised. Horus Reference: Dennis J. Stallings, “Catharism, Levitov, and the Voynich Manuscript” The Voynich Manuscript,  Jul. 2006 <http://www.geocities.com/ctesibos/voynich/levitov2.htm>.
2 – Endura: A Cathar ritual of euthanasia, translating literally to fasting. The Cathars:  Cathar Beliefs:  Ceremonies:  Endura <http://www.cathar.info/12011005_endura.htm>.