To No One in Particular

To no one in particular,
I am writing you this message from the peak of a mountain I have been trapped on for the past three weeks and I am sending this to you via falcon. I have been thinking of you ever since you found me in my last hideout and demanded to know the truth about my story. After months of pondering, I have decided to tell you my tale.
Many people devote themselves to many different things. For example, a friend of mine is devoted to the search of a very peculiar color. Another has dedicated their lifetime to more heroic deeds such as saving people from the horrors of tax fraud or the dangers of papercuts. To be said, everyone is committed-whether realised or not-to at least one objective of life. Personally, I am committed to warn you of two things before this grim story begins.
First off, if you are the kind of being who hides behind lives' horrors by simply convincing yourself they don't exist, then this is not the book for you. I suggest you place this book back on the shelf and leave it to collect so much dust over the years that no one will ever bother going through the trouble of dusting it. For this book has no happy beginning nor a happy ending. The middle of this book contains content that may make you believe there may be a happily ever after, however that is sorely not the case. For this is real life, not a storybook.
Secondly, I must inform you not to trust me. Bear in mind that you are the unreliable reader as I am the unreliable narrator. I am very biased.
If you are anything like me, anything at all, you know that the only true meaning of life is to complete it. However, I cannot complete my life until I relay the very ill-starred life of Caspian and Roman Blankard.
Ill-starred, as you or may not know, means unlucky, difficult, and overall doomed. And that is exactly what the circumstances of the Blankard children's lives are. So you want a story? I'll give you one.
-Your most unfaithful narrator-