Chapter 1 - Down the ages

...on the 17th of March 1785 in the Provence region of France, in the small fishing village of Port de Bouc a child was born to parents Pierre and Edith DuPont. The girl was named Jeanette and was the perfect example of a healthy baby girl, with curly blonde hair, cherub cheeks, cheeky blue eyes and a smile to melt hearts. The only slight physical abnormality of note was an unusual birthmark in the shape of an 'L' on her inner thigh.
She grew to lead a fairly normal and productive life as far as local prospects made available and her time passed uneventfully with the obligatory duties of marriage and family finding her in their due course as they found those around her. When old age caught up with her she was a mother of 4 and a grandmother of 9 and was therefore in theory able to look back at her life with satisfaction and that sought after sense of achievement one is expected to strive for. However this was not quite the case, her entire life from as long as she had been able to appreciate her own existence had carried with it a sense of misunderstanding, the belief, or even the knowledge that she was missing something deeply profound and altogether personal. like an itch she could never find let alone scratch she walked her days aware that her particular brand of restlessness was all her own. She suffered bizarre dreams and her husband would often tell her of strange words she had spoken in the night, words of languages unknown to either of them in waking hours. They often laughed it off and she would retort with comments saying her mumbles could never be half as bad as her husbands earth quaking snores, but always kept this fact behind closed doors. This would always leave her with an understandable sense of unease as she sensed a profound connection that would never be within her reach.
At 2.40pm on September the 23rd 1855 at the ripe old age of 70 and with her loved ones close by Jeanette Madeline DuPont passed from this world happy but bemused, her last breath carrying her eternally unanswered question into the ether.

A few moments later in a small hovel on the outskirts of Beijing in the heart the great republic of china Wan tsi-chow was born into this world. The boy was the son of his newly married parents; Wen-Yi and Hong-Tsu, who had not planned the pregnancy and had to move quickly to avoid the loss of dignity associated with childbirth outside of marriage. Retaining dignity was a hard enough task in itself, for the chow family lived in abject poverty like so many around them, scraping out a meager living through occasional labor for one of the local Shoguns, the selling of low quality but lovingly prepared street pastries and supplementing what they could through begging. Life proved even more of a trial for Wan himself; the poverty he could cope with as this was the standard for many others around him and therefore he did not harbor excessive envy, but he was not a normal by any counts and for this he was singled out and abused. Wan tsi was known to have peculiar turns when he could inexplicably recite knowledge he should/could never have known. at first this was attributed to a great gift of intellect and attentiveness but when it became known that the child also spoke other languages in his sleep (a fact impossible to hide given the terribly cramped conditions in which the citizens of the ghetto lived) he was soon singled out by his paranoid, suspicious and often rather malicious neighbors as one guilty of wielding dark powers and even of demonic possession. This lead to bullying and abuse of an ever increasing level and wan tsi inevitably sustained injury, a damaging blow to his right leg after a particularly severe beating was a case in question .His situation became dire even to the point where his parents were forced to shun him for fear of their own well-being. In despair wan tsi left his home and roamed the ghetto a crippled child with only a poor stick for support, searching the streets for scraps as he was kicked and spat at. This eventually came to a painful conclusion on a rainy afternoon on May 2nd 1866 when at the age of 11 he was chased, stoned then kicked to death by a gang of hate and hunger fueled youths. As the final blows rained down and his body and soul were beaten brutally from this mortal coil his rain and tear soaked eyes looked to the heavens with a last pleading glance, silently asking 'why?'
Wan Tsi-Chow had an L shaped birthmark on his inner thigh.


Moments later in the small town of Curitiba in Brazil a baby girl was born to 2 hopeful and loving parents. Her life was cut short by complications at birth however and the time on this earth afforded her was a mere 27 tragic minutes. Although the very modest medical facilities available in the village were clearly not able to define the exact causes of death it was clear she was suffering some kind of internal trauma. She appeared bruised and it was noted that her right leg appeared to be broken. In addition they noticed she bore an L shaped birthmark on the inside of her left thigh. Carleeta Rodriquez gave up her short struggle for life in the arms of her parents, and at 3.45am with the sound of her mother and fathers tears around her and with the warmth of their love and sorrow emanating in the air she passed from this world

Moments later in the mountains of Romania, in a hilltop village now long extinct and with barley a ramshackle hut to represent the once prosperous peoples who lived there, a baby boy with an L shaped birthmark on his inner thigh was born. The child enjoyed a relatively normal childhood and upbringing with his parents and two sisters, although he did suffer from pains in his right leg which caused him a slight and permanent limp. As he grew older however he became troubled and young years of being prone to sulking turned into a deeper type of depression as he entered the pubescent teenage years and beyond. It was also noted by the child's parents that their son Anton was forming slightly unusual sleeping habits and was prone to walking and talking whilst unconscious. The family wisely kept this behind closed doors as in those superstitious times they recognized the potential threat of having the boy labeled as a religious or mental concern of some kind. The family, like those around them, were practicing orthodox Christians and the mother would take the child each week to pray for happiness and relief from the troublesome burden he seemed to carry. Eventually as his condition deepened Anton was sent to the local monastery on the other side of the mountains to look for peace amongst the brotherhood. The monks took him in and here he began his long life of quiet contemplation and prayer here however with the understanding of the brothers around him he proved a gifted and intelligent Christian student and through study and patience became one of the most learned of the fraternity. He outlived all others around him and when he finally passed away on September the 14th and his frail hands slipped for the last time from his beloved bible he had attained the grand old age of 104 years.

On the 14th of September 1970 in the suburbs of Croydon in the South East of England in the maternity ward of the Royal Croydon infirmary, Patrick Asimov Wakefield was born to parents Josie and Mike. The baby boy weighed in at a healthy 8.4 pounds, had brown hair and keen eyes. Both parents were ecstatically happy and looked forward to taking the child home to their modest home in the suburbs, where they intended to shower him with all the love and opportunities this life can offer. Funny how things don't always work out how you planned isn't it?

On Patrick Wakefield's birth certificate it was noted under distinguishing features that the boy had a large L shaped birthmark on his inner thigh of his left leg.