Journal #1

Location: xxxx-xxxxx

Date: xx-xx-xxxx

We all belong to an ancient identity. Stories are the rivers that take us there.

My name is Wally. 

For my last birthday, I received a wooden box. A box that was passed from generation to generation. It survived many wars, a few storms, deep waves and huge fires. Inside, there was a key, a riddle and a map. 

I used the key, solved the riddle and kept the map. 

This is how it ALL started. 

This is how I decided to embark on an uncertain quest. My first discoveries shattered my beliefs and what I thought I knew. 

This journal will document my findings. It will help my friends retrace my steps and let the world learn the truth.

For millenniums, my ancestors fought to protect a secret… a secret so powerful that people risked their lives to make sure that it didn’t fall into the wrong hands. Sometimes they failed, sometimes they succeeded. But, most importantly, they never stopped carrying the torch. Never stopped resisting. Never stopped hoping. 

My past has always been a blur, a puzzle with a lot of missing pieces. I heard stories. Back then, none of them made sense. Today, they are the clues so desperately needed.

Some of them were about my grandfather. Or the grandfather of my grandfather- how he crossed the ocean, how he guided Alexander Hamilton and how, eventually, he lost his honor. Nothing happens by accident. NOThING. 

Our enemies are powerful and resourceful. They have been afraid of what my family knows since the dawn of time. 

Then, there were also plenty of stories about my own father. The misfit, the rebel, the trouble-maker. The round peg in the square hole.

My father learned a lot about my ancestors’ promise. A promise of blood, tears and hope. He did everything he could to make things right and give us the necessary tools to achieve the dream.

I was a kid when he disappeared. He left me a drawer full of notes. I worked through all those little details over the last year and a half. And there were a lot of them.

Now, a little bit more about me: I wasn’t a wolf but I joined Wall Street… how ironic that will sound when you’ve learned everything I now know.

I thought that I was following the steps of my father, as he was following those of his own dad and the many others before him. 

Like them, I tried my best to climb the stairs. I played the game. 

But deep down, I knew that something was wrong. I knew that it was not what I was meant to be.

For my last birthday I received this wooden box. 

The past, the present, the future…

Now, I know where I need to go and what I need to do. 

My past, my present, your future. 


2 responses to “Journal #1”

  1. Wally, if nothing else, you have an amazing family history! Thank you for sharing it with us, irrespective of what’s in your vault. The journey *is* the destination as they say.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *