In the beginning their lived a man of wizard kind, he was not the peculiar nature of a wizard but a man of knowledge and thought. He traversed alone, musing to the sounds of the wind, and found inner peace within the void of his soul. His soul, as some would say, was shadowed by a white nature of what is pure and virtuous; as virtue was the man who did not fall.
Now simply living there is a story within all of his creation. It speaks of early times when demons and angels were still present. He is the nature of all nature this man, a small thinker in a large box. Yet this story is not of a man, but of the man of time who followed his path long begonst. His path shadows the white heat that radiates from his soul.
A soul now is states of being were one lives fully upright with himself. Yet in accordance, all is contained within oneself so the knowledge of his soul is expressed through his white nature. Blanc as a sheet of paper. The words here contained are of a man who travelled the land, musing his way through problems, jests, toils, and troubling snares.
Along the pat of snare walked the man, who was of the white row, now here the story beings.