You found buried treasure!! Enjoy:

Prestonia
by
Daniel Galef

Proclamation from the Royal Publishing-House of King Preston I (the palm hut near the beach), as commissioned, written, and scratched on a palm frond with his fingernails by King Preston I:

Part I: The Founding of the Empire of Prestonia (and Dominions), Its Heroes and Statesmen

The long and noble history of the Empire stretches back as far as early 2020, when H.I.R.H. Emperor Preston I & I discovered and conquered the territory that became Prestonia from the little-traveled waters of [location to be determined, q.v. Geographical Assay, below]. At the time, his Majesty was an oppressed subject of a foreign crown and a tyrannical freshman English teacher. Rome began with a wolf. Britain was born from a sword dredged out of a pond. Prestonia, grand as it shines (the sun is blinding), sprung from a spring break booze cruise and a faulty guardrail[1].

Part II: Geographical Assay of the Empire, Establishing Her Borders and Features of Interest

The isle of Prestonia is thought by its leading cartographers to span 500 Prestonsfoots from the tip of Point Preston to Preston Point. Point Preston is home to Preston Castle (after the tide destroyed the first Imperial Palace), where the Prestonia River flows into the sea at Prestons Bay.

Little is known about what lies beyond the bounds of this blessed land, but it is likely that Prestonia lies somewhere in the southern hemisphere, unless it’s in the northern one, possibly between South America in the east and Africa in the west, or maybe vice-versa. I really should have read the cruise itinerary. It is nigh-unanimous scientific consensus that Prestonia lies somewhere in an ocean, but alternative theories include purgatory or a vodka-and-redbull-induced fever nightmare.

Part III: Demographic Census of the Empire

A thorough and detailed assay of Prestonia has determined that the population of the Empire is one [2]. Calls for diversification have been made but resulted in little to no increase in immigration rates. Birth rates are holding steady at zero. Death rates are also at zero, with much effort to preserve this statistic.

Part IV: A Treatise on Metaphysics and the Divine, and the Many Faiths of This Land

The religious history of Prestonia (and Dominions) is a long and colorful tapestry stretching from the primordial faith practiced by the ancestors of the Royal House all the way to the conclusion that there is no just god who would allow this torment and the world must want me dead or else I’m already dead and this is Hell.

Accordingly, the bold missionaries of the State Church were sent forth into the wilds and the whole of the kingdom was converted to the new faith of Prestonianism, whose worship consists primarily of banging my head against this palm tree over and over and over.

Holy symbols of Prestonianism include distant sails, the sound of plane engines, and any human voices. Inauspicious symbols include everything everywhere I look at any time, inexpertly-riveted cruise ship guardrails, and Trevor [q.v. “List of Enemies of the State”].

 

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1. If I find out Trevor pushed me, bro or not I’m never blacking out with him again.

 2. Addendum, early 2020: The population has increased by approximately 10000% since the granting of full citizenship to hallucinations, a historically unrepresented majority.

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Meanwhile, back on the island:

• Fashion a weapon
• Scavenge for food
• Search the wreckage 
• Build a shelter 
• Scan the horizon 
• Explore the caves
• Read the waves
• Return to Meta Island
• Wait, what?
• Skip to TOC
• Read the Foreword
• Check the passenger manifest
• Read Dead-Letters from the Editor
• Exit Simulation