Day 2171 RSTE, 771 BPTE
I record this in the sanctity of a sitting room on the first floor
of the Castle atop Kolvir. The building has no name of which I know,
unless, like the city and all else here, it is referred to as Amber. It
is the ancestral keep of the surfacer side of my Order heritage, which has
a fine tradition which spans four generations, if one counts the founder
and the diaper brigade. I am welcome as well in the Castle below the sea,
which has as illustrious of an history, with the exception of being a bit
saner. That castle has no name that I recall. There I am relatively
close to the throne, although in that unlikely event it is perfectly clear
to me that it will be Lilith who is in charge, and that is perfectly
acceptable to me. On the other hand, I am the heir to House Jesby in
Chaos, a position which comes with a snazzy target to pin on my chest.
The status of the family there is dubious, but it is where I have power of
a political sort. I do not know why I dwell on this issue of
responsibility as it pertains to position. I am obviously stalling, but
for what reason I do not as yet know. Fear that I could be right? That
no one will listen? Or that they will, and I am wrong? Perhaps success
itself. Very well, indulging my reflective mood may serve to steady my
nerve. I cannot account for a large block of time; I recall nothing from
the moment of my capture to that of hours before our escape. Ariel tells
me that two weeks passed in between, but I can only guess as to their
contents. I do not care to. We arrived in Martin's Shadow in an
alleyway. Quite soon, too quickly as it seems now, we came upon a bar.
The others assure me that it was Ariadne's voice which issued from within.
I've never met her. I remain unconvinced that we did then. It was
rapidly agreed that the convenient placing of this trap necessitated our
entrance into it. I would like to think that I could have seen our
abduction coming, had I been in a clearer frame of mind. I really would
like that. We fell; that's the long and short. I gather that others
fought their way to the floor. Being who I am, I threw myself upon it. I
woke once, briefly. I moved, and that was that. I assume that this was
shortly before regaining and maintaining consciousness. The second time
around, I was smarter. Usually we are, if afforded that opportunity. I
suppose that Ariana had already begun tampering with the security devices
by then, and it is probably more a credit to her than to me that I made
what little progress I did. I was in a tank. A device which is called a
catheter floated below me, and a pair of surfacer style "undergarments"
hung about my thighs. I guess in two weeks time they couldn't be bothered
to fit me for my cool water gender. Anyway, Martin's body is in the tank
beside mine, but Ahab's in control. One of them would appear to like me.
With Ariana's coordination, we all bust loose and retrieve our items and
such. My clothes are the only ones left. They fit perfectly. We all put
on the official sort of clothing that our captors presumably wore.
Eventually, it's determined that Foster is missing. Other people were
too, but we knew where to find him. Laughter came back with bad news.
Whoever took Ahab's body can control us. Or at least her. And he's
spoken to Corwin, Fiona and Dara. Presumably to Ariadne as well. He's
kidnapped Lyss, though he was probably only after the shards. Long before
we learn this, we acquire a helper. That's one thing, but then Ahab rapes
her with Martin's body and makes her think it's okay...... I'm having a
difficult time in helping these people, the more I'm around them. We get
Foster and leave. The others blow up the building and a good chunk of the
city as a farewell. All those people.... Fuck. I guess there really
isn't any choice after all. My conscience lies with Chaos. The only
question is: can Chaos survive its civil war without these bastards?
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