I have started to notice through my travels that there are certain transcendent characters that keep popping up. I have met many kings and clowns; loyal guards, subservient servants, heroes, gurus, star-crossed lovers and lovers who made it, even if they weren't star-crossed. But the one character that I feel I am closest to is the traveler, for I am an alien on this strange planet.

It is not rare for one traveler to meet another, just extraordinary. Imagine two aliens in a single city, and what strangeness they would strike with their auras in the hearts of the local people. Indeed, they are strangers to each other. However, I remember sitting down with another wanderer, and an epic battle of tales ensued. I learned of places that I had never heard of before, and I told my companion of sights he could not believe. And so we parted eager to see these things with our own eyes, for words were not enough to dull passion.

My character comes in many forms. There is the old drunkard who has lost his way, the young man striking out his own path, a princess tired of life behind stone walls, a thief on the run, and a hero on a mission. These are just a few of the travelers I had the pleasure of meeting. And I shall tell you their stories slowly. But first, perhaps a little more about myself, a true alien to this world.

Our race is sometimes called Angels, because we fell from the heavens. I have also heard the term Celestials used, but our own race prefers Scribes. We are creatures curious to a fault, and perhaps not the only ones. What once used to be written down on acres of parchment and gallons of ink became micro-chips; which then became nano-chips. It then became information-atoms, projecting vast stores of data onto an image of a scroll. For the scroll was where we started so many years ago.

Our race was also once familiar with the term death, but now we have also adapted to knowledge of our constant rebirth. We know this for certain because we were the architects of the system. It is said that Rebirth was once just an obsession. A woman by the name of Jonas first realized that as long as our core essence was kept intact, we could live on even though our biological atoms and cells had to die. Later, our ancestors realized that each core essence depended on our lives, and the story of each individual life. And so, we became the containers for essence. And as scrolls recorded our lives, the scrolls would become us in the next life.

Thus our planet lost its old name to time and became Athanaeum, the great collection of works of ourselves. But our curiosity was insatiable. Not being content with solving the riddle of life and death, we solved riddles about our planet. And soon, we desired to know about the life and stories of other planets. We are not certain if our race is the first in the enormous galaxy to attain this kind of advancement, but we go blindly anyways into the great unknown.

This is where I choose to begin.