"To sit in darkness here, Hatching vain empires"

So farewell hope, and with hope farewell fear,
Farewell remorse; all good to me is lost.
Evil, be thou my good.
- Paradise Lost, Book IV



I blame the fey. What else could possess me to pick up a pen after so many years? Surely the fault lies with that damnable creature and the sensational visions she bestowed upon me. I’ve heard of such encounters, but nothing could have prepared me for the experience itself. Late into the night I wandered, lost in my thoughts as never before, dazzled by sights untold and whose meaning I have yet to unfold.

I thought once that I glimpsed some shade of my past—that mistress who will haunt me until my next death. What message might she have been charged with delivering to me? Or, more likely, was her appearance simply the latest manifestation of my curse?

Curse. I’ve not used that term in ages—at least not in connection with my continued existence. In those days, I may have claimed that this was no existence at all. I am not, after all, alive. And yet, once I came to accept what and who I am, I have experienced such vitality as those whose hearts yet beat will never know.

That is not to say, mind you, that immortality is without its dull moments or frustrations. On the contrary, I’ve had far too much of that dish in my most recent nights. I had low expectations for this chapter of my “unlife,” as some prefer to call it, but even those meager standards have not been met since I arrived in this town. Already I grow restless, but I will not turn to recklessness. If I am to gain anything from this detour, my calculations must be precise, my time carefully managed. An odd thought, isn’t it? All the time in the world, and yet I speak of rationing out each minute.

I’ve taken the first step, at last, having encountered one of my own. No, that may not be entirely correct. I worry already that our similarities may extend no further than our shared heritage—that is, having defeated death. She speaks of order and justice, structure … All admirable pieces of society, yes, but only if they are properly incorporated. When havoc fills the Prince’s absence, what impression am I left to draw? Alas, I have been extended an invitation to treat with this authority—or rather, as I suspect, to present myself for approval—and thus must play my part as I always have.

They know I am here now. What they choose to do with that knowledge … Time will tell. And what I choose to do with what I learn at this meeting, and through my other observations? That, as ever, will be mine alone to say.