Autumn is in the air today, only a few short days after equinox. It has been good visiting Silver Mountain, but with Winter coming soon, the nights are already very cool, and it is nearing time to move on, move into lower elevations and less frigid temperatures that are surely not too far away.
While I have been here at Silver Mountain, I have spent my time camped at the gathering of the clans near the river. My campsite is located right on the banks of the river beneath the ancient elms that grow along the canyon floor.
The clans come from many places, near and far. Some come from the deserts that surround the mountain, some come from as far away as the sea to the south, and some from the forests to the north. People from many different cultures have come here to this enchanted mountain, to gather beneath this grand sky, to share ideas and stories, to trade and barter, and to visit with friends and family from years gone by. And it is all for the most part very peaceful, considering this is sacred ground, and most would not want to violate the sacred land they hold so dear.
My name is Wilym, and I have lived many years, and wandered over much of the land and sea. From my humble beginnings in a small village far from here whose name I can't even recall, to Cathode, and even Zoson itself. I will tell you of Zoson and Cathode as the story unfolds. But as with most good stories, I think I will take you back to the very beginning, long, long ago.