"There isn't much to tell," he coyly responded.

"Nonsense, Bernibus, tell me or I shall get very angry," I jested,
imitating some mythological god's wrath.

He smiled discreetly and yielded to my request, "Very well, I will tell
you. I was born in the year 490 D.V. (that is, Durante Vita), to a poor
couple from the northernmost pier of Daem, the Gog."

"Wait a moment, Bernibus," I interrupted, "I didn't mean in that
fashion, for when I say I know little of you, it is because I literally
know little of 'you', not the circumstances that make up your past. I
guess it goes back to the interpretation of the past and its powers, and
since we can't seem to escape discussing it, lets embrace it willingly.
You seem to believe that the events of your life have shaped you in such
a profound way that their mere description is sufficient to explain your
personality; I will grant that their influence has effected you subtly,
but history is not the scapegoat of the present. The circumstances do
more to define the character of an individual than to shape it, for even
siblings with the exact same experiences can be greatly different in
personality and achievements. But what I mean is this: your past has
influenced your present, yet it is gone and your present remains, show
me Bernibus, not his previous forms."

You, who are now reading this, may think this statement of mine to
Bernibus to be hypocritical, in light of the very purpose and intent of
these memoirs. You may be thinking that I am relating this whole
happening in order to justify my actions and decisions. But that is not
the case, for I understand that you have no power over me, I have long