AgulfofblacknessandthecurtainliftsagainuponaverydifferentOlaffromtheyoungnorthernlordwhopartedfromIdunaattheplaceofsacrificeatAar。
Iseemyselfstandinguponaterracethatoverlooksastretchofquietwater，whichInowknowwastheBosphorus。Behindmeareagreatpalaceandthelightsofavastcity；infront，upontheseaanduponthefarthershore，areotherlights。Themoonshinesbrightaboveme，and，havingnaughtelsetodo，Istudymyreflectioninmyownburnishedshield。Itshowsamanofearlymiddlelife；hemaybethirtyorfive-and-thirtyyearsofage；thesameOlaf，yetmuchchanged。Fornowmyframeistallandwell-knit，thoughstillsomewhatslender；myfaceisbronzedbysouthernsuns；Iwearashortbeard；
thereisascaracrossmycheek，gotinsomebattle；myeyesarequiet，andhavelostthefirstlivelinessofyouth。IknowthatIamthecaptainoftheNorthernGuardoftheEmpressIrene，widowofthedeademperor，LeotheFourth，andjointruleroftheEasternEmpirewithheryoungson，Constantine，thesixthofthatname。
HowIcametofillthisplace，however，Idonotknow。ThestoryofmyjourneyfromJutlandtoByzantiumislosttome。Doubtlessitmusthavetakenyears，andafterthesemoreyearsofhumbleservice，beforeIrosetobethecaptainofIrene’sNorthernGuardthatshekepteveraboutherperson，becauseshewouldnottrustherGreciansoldiers。
Myarmourwasveryrich，yetInotedaboutmyselftwothingsthatwerewithmeinmyyouth。Onewasthenecklaceofgoldenshells，dividedfromeachotherbybeetlesofemeralds，thatIhadtakenfromtheWanderer’sgraveatAar，andtheotherthecross-hiltedbronzeswordwithwhichthissameWandererhadbeengirdedinhisgrave。Iknownowthatbecauseofthisweapon，whichwasofametalandshapestrangetothatland，IhadthebynameofOlafRed-Sword，andIknowalsothatnonewishedtofeeltheweightofthissameancientblade。