Did I have a dream? Or did the dream have me?
You can cup your hand to catch water, but it always finds the cracks, and soon you are left holding nothing. In much the same way, the memories of ten years began to slip through my fingers.
They weren't exactly the years I was looking to find, but I had found a strange sense of peace and fulfillment in my position in Amber. Now I find myself having trouble remembering the smaller details - the complexity of the magic of the Dream was slowly eroding, leaving nothing but the sour truth behind. In the case of Cecily, it has cost her a grievous wound after an embarrassing and horrifying violation.
I had memories of lies. I felt confusion and anger, but mostly
I could do nothing but look ahead to the next ten years, knowing all the things that needed to be endured.
It's been much a botch of things on the road to Amber. I cannot sense in my companions that anyone has found what they were looking for; some of them think it will be just a matter of time, others think that a lot of hard work will put things right. A few are pessimistic - or honest - enough to realize that Amber is and will probably never be again the land of milk and honey that our forefathers lived in.
There are plans to put Zamorna/Osric and all of this nonsense with the Dream to an end, to depose him and make the two realms more or less independent of each other again. Lucia believes the key to defeating Zamorna will be to exploit his cruelty. My role looks to be to gather the forces of Korbin, Embeth, and Caine to feint through the portal into the Dream located at the World-Tree.
Something is buzzing in my head that this effort will be that which the future of this land, and our struggles, hinges on and so I will prepare my spells and skills to help win the day.
Not for myself - I'm already doomed, I think. Too much blood on my hands.
Good luck, everyone. And live well should we not meet again.
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