The Wheel of Time turns, and Ages come and pass, leaving memories that become legend. Legend fades to myth, and even myth is long forgotten when the Age that gave it birth comes again. In one Age, called the First Age by some, an Age yet to come, an Age long past, a man drove on the coast of North Carolina. The man was not the beginning. There are neither beginnings nor endings to the turning of the Wheel of Time. But he was a beginning.
The man drove inland, away from the rough waters of the Atlantic Ocean and into South Carolina. He exited onto I-20, and coursed his path into Georgia, past Augusta and numerous orange traffic cones, until he came at last to Atlanta. An early summer heat was on the land, and the merciless sun beat down on steel and pavement alike. The man turned before entering the city, and found his way to the Embassy Suites in Alpharetta. He found his way to JordanCon.
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