Following my heart
Yielded nothing tangible
I undid myself
This comedy of errors
I am compelled to repeat
It came true. Many of his ghostly words came to pass. Castle Amber disintegrated, not into feathers, but into nothing at all. No time to mourn it.
My arm... taken from me. A good lesson, but one not well-learned. Icarus builds his next flying machine... The path before me is so beyond me. Yet, I must walk it, because, we need it. It may swallow me whole, but, then, the next to take it up can learn from my many, innumerable missteps and grasp the raw power that we will need to defend it. And talking to that oily fuck... how stupid I am. I will hurt him someday, scar him badly, knock him down a peg or two. But yet, despite being used, abused, and played like a fiddle, albeit a broken one, I have learned nothing. Here I am, yet again, rushing towards exactly what they must want me to go to. Aquila taunts me, as well it should, and behind its hollow teasing words rings the laughter of that damn bird. No more on that now... I have to prepare for Tenebrae. Prepare for the answers that may come my way. Finally a glimpse of hope among many glimpses of the unthinkable, and I find myself afraid of it. How can I ever hope to see the light again when I have been in darkness for so long. Your eyes are sunrises, golden and blinding, and beautiful.
--- Letters to Iain, pt. I
Pattern above, Logrus below, Trump defines what lies in between. But try as it might, it can not define us. From the moments we are birthed we carry the sign of the Unicorn within our veins. All of existence acknowledges it. Princes, kings, traditions; all are transitory. Amber is transitory. Pattern is constant, and Pattern is within us. We must work tirelessly to improve ourselves; to become worthy of this frightening weight. All these things I am certain you know already. I am an idiot child compared to you. I write them for the messenger. In spite of my brush with annihilation, I am pressing on into, perhaps, even more dangerous territory. I am changing my path. I don't know if it is because of something the girl from Aquila (the one who masquerades as one of us) spoke to me, or if I reached this decision on my own in the roiling turmoil which was my comatose state. It doesn't matter, either way. I have learned that pain can be power. If this holds true, I should be alright. But, if I am destroyed in this process, know that I loved you; a pure selfless love that I never expected to be returned. If you still hold dear any memory of me, before I ruined them... before I metaphorically soiled myself before you... before I fucked it all up with my delusions and greedy hopes of more more more; if you still hold some memories dear I beg of you: Live a full life, dance and scream and love, because when its over, its done.