LOTHARIO: THE PLEASURE GOD

If you are reading this, it means everything has gone to shit. I am either dead, close to death, or facing a fate worse than death. The pre-requisite for the release of this story hinges on my fate; if this has been released, then my fate must have been decided. I don't know who holds the key to this narrative's lock, but somewhere, someone has decided the time is now.

Many things have happened over the course of my life to bring me to this point—admittedly, some by my own doing, others as a byproduct of being caught in the crossfire of powerful men, and still others as a result of daring to meddle in the affairs of gods. Either way, my fate has been sealed; the choice of whether I will live or not has been taken away from me. But what I will not let them take from me is my story. I am certain that, as of this moment, narratives are being spun about me and my experiences—some true, others false, others mixed with varying degrees of truth and lies.

But I have decided that I will tell my story, as it happened. I do not say this for you to sympathize with me or to judge me; quite frankly, I do not care. Interpret it how you want, but you will hear my story, everything that matters.

 I have been helpless many times in my life, even now as I ink this to paper; decisions have been made for me, and I have done a great many things not of my own choosing. So, I will not let this one be taken from me too. I will tell you of my life, as it happened. I will tell you of my faults, my flaws; I will tell you everything. I will not paint myself as some sort of saint; I most certainly am not. I will not tell you lies or embellish my feats. If that is what you want, then I am sure you can find that in taverns amidst drunken men, in bathhouses amidst maidens and noble women, in whorehouses amidst whores and patronizing folks, in courts amidst aristocrats and noblemen, at seaports amidst sailors, merchants, and traveling men, in garrisons amidst soldiers and sellswords, at campfires amidst children and storytelling parents—anywhere but here.

I will tell my story as it happened; this is possible for me because of my near perfect memory. I remember everything as it happened, for better or worse. Where details are muddled, such as when I was under the influence of ale and wine, I will tell you. After that, you can judge me or feel sorry for me. But remember, in this world, where the gods themselves walk among us, where magic and betrayal are as common as the air we breathe, my tale is but one thread in a vast tapestry of fates.

Depending on whom you ask, I have many names, but for the purpose of clarity and consistency, I will stick to Lothario. When, where, and why I acquired these many names, I will tell you. Each name carries a story, a burden, or a legend—some earned through blood, others through love, and some through sheer happenstance. I have had what is certainly an eventful life that very few, if any, can rival. I have been a slave, a warrior, an assassin; I have been an aristocrat, a noble, a king. I have lain with common folk women, nobles, princesses, queens, and even goddesses. Each encounter, a lesson in the art of survival, in the dance of power and desire. I have done many things I simply cannot reveal here—not yet. There are secrets bound by oaths, by magic, by fear, which in time, you will understand.

Over the course of this reading, I will reveal things that will change our world as we know it; it will cause wars and political strife. Perhaps I should not reveal these things, but to tell my story truly and fully, I simply must. In this land where the sun sets in blood, where the whispers of the past echo through the stones of ancient ruins, the truth of my life could shift the balance of power, topple kingdoms, or forge new alliances in the fires of revelation.

To the people whose path I have crossed, I will reveal things about you that you may not want revealed, and for this, I am most sorry. Forgive me if you can; hate me if you must. Know that my words are not born from malice but from the necessity of truth. Your secrets, once mine, now belong to the winds of history.

Now then, dear reader, do you believe a man can control his fate, or are we all but pawns in a larger game? When you hear of my deeds, will you judge me by the standards of your world or mine? I dare you to keep an open mind as you delve into my tale. Consider this, dear reader: every hero has his villain, and every villain, his story.

This is my story, and to tell it wholly, we must start at the beginning. In the pages that follow, you'll find no fantastical tales of heroism without cost, no easy victories or simple love stories. You will find life, in all its brutal, beautiful complexity.

So, turn the page, and let us begin.