The hero’s story is told in an ancient, secret chronicle... A white falcon flew across the Eternal Blue Sky. His flight was long and beautiful, binding together the patchwork of lands; his life was full of victories and defeats. Soaring high, then falling like a stone, the falcon darted from place to place. He threaded his way from the colored Jin Empire to that of the daring Naimans; from the lands of the Karakitai Khanate to the territories of the rebellious Tangut; from the highlands of the warlike Taichuds to the floodplains of the unruly Tatars.... From north to south, from east to west, no man or beast in the world knew what the falcon was really like: how his heart ached; how fears clutched his chest; what nightmares visited his sleep; what treacherous winds lurked at every takeoff of his daily journey—a journey from nothing to everything. But as he flew, paying for his power over the world with his loneliness, the world was falling to pieces. When the falcon ceased flying, the Great Destruction came, and only the memory of the people for him kept the Mongol flame burning across the centuries—all while people went about their daily routines, and did all the unbearable and great things that give man his destiny...