Excerpts from Mindfang’s Journal 2

It's 8een nearly a week since Dualscar's fitting end and I'd all 8ut forgotten the matter. It seems the Su8juggl8ors were not particularly inspired 8y his revel8tions a8out my affairs. Sources tell me their response was to commission one of the court's neophyte legislacerators to conduct the investig8tion and 8ring me to justice.

Neophyte Redglare is reported to 8e quite talented. I find no reason to dou8t this. Still, how can I 8e caused any unrest to learn their recourse is to send a lone, inexperienced 8ureaucrat to apprehend me?

I cannot view this as anything other than full concession 8y the High8loods. They now only seek to maintain the appearance of pursuing me. May8e they find my exploits amusing? I couldn't possi8ly disagree. Those rare moments when my superiors show wisdom come perilously close to restoring my faith in the social order.

As for Redglare, it would surprise me if I ever heard her name again. If she finds me then I welcome her challenge. 8ut I am so confident she will play no relevant role in my future, I won't even 8other peering into my oracle to satisfy my curiosity.

--

I suppose I'll have to get used to writing with this hand instead.

I now do so in captivity, while I 8ring my awe to 8ear on the immensity of the Su8juggl8or's high jinx. I took their gesture as plain avowal of my prosecution's futility. With a lone neophyte assigned to the task, how could I view it otherwise? I was sure they'd drawn from the 8ottom of their deck, not intending to squander more competent mercenaries on one who'd made a show of outclassing them all 8efore. 8ut I discovered too l8 that Redglare was their wild card all along.

How is one allowed to 8e raised 8y a dragon in this era? Let alone one of such middling 8lood, the sickly hue of a gutless civil servant. Those of her caste are typically pleased to mount a sluggish choler8ear, or some 8rainless squawking spleenfowl during petty expeditions to plaster seizure notices on gam8lignant property. 8y what fluke was this woman granted such a weapon, permitting her to luxuri8 in these delusions of righteousness?

Something 8locked the light of the un8itten moon, treating the har8or to darkness more grim than what fell this season's apogee. I made the mistake of looking into its eyes, each like a sun concentr8ted into a small jewel, as two hot garnets searing through a 8lack veil. I shut mine quickly, 8ut the more sensitive of them was 8urned irrepara8ly. When I regained sight in the other, there was only red. My fleet was in flames. The neophyte was on deck. Pyralspite, she mentioned through her ridiculous forced grin. She wanted me to know the name of the 8east which was a8le to consume my lusus whole.

My dice were in the hold 8elow, not that my present luck would consent to a favora8le roll anyway. I made a move for my 8lade. She took my arm, which I'm sure she kept as the tiniest of snacks for her ostent8ious custodian. May8e she meant to prove she wouldn't need me in irons to have my su8mission?

8ound or free.

Two, one or none.

I wonder how well she knows it's not what I do with my arms she has to fear?

I aw8 my trial.

Much fanfare was made of the trial. More than I would have dared to hope. It seems my luck has 8een returning of l8.

The High8loods surely intended to make a spectacle of my conviction. They filled the court8lock with peasants ravenous for the comeuppance of a 8lue 8lood. I wasn't a8out to deny them what they came for.

It was kind of the authorities to supply me with phalanx of such impressiona8le spect8ors. The weak wills were nearly as thick in the air as the rust in their veins. Funny how my other senses seem to have piqued since exchanging glances with the dragon. What an extraordinary specimen. How I've come to covet the creature since it ruined my fleet. I know too well the whispers of a dangerous new infatu8tion when they 8eckon. 8ut I digress.

It was simple enough to nudge the hostility of the low8loods from one aristocrat to another. The su8juggl8ors could not have 8een pleased, 8ut nor could they have 8een altogether unamused, I would expect. I wonder if this was part of their unfathoma8le game? I'll never understand their riddles.

I only regret I didn't get to hear the opening st8ment the neophyte had prepared against me. The case she compiled from all that evidence she 8urned must have been damning. I 8et her remarks would have stung worse than when she severed my arm. She certainly would have shown me gr8ter mercy 8y taking the other instead!

Alas, I mock to disguise the extent of my regret.

Had my escape not necessit8ed her demise, she would have made a lovely rival. If she'd only discarded her childish preoccup8tion with justice, we might have made a striking scourge. Had we inched 8lacker we'd have torn red miles across the land and sea. Unfortun8ly, the only miles to 8e found through her 8ureaucratic calling were those of red tape. When so ensnared, one is eventually 8ound to 8e choked.

With the court8lock cleared, all that remained to o8struct my freedom was His Honora8le Tyranny himself.

Upon reflection, Redglare showed the foresight of a true seer in thieving my arm 8efore the trial.

It permitted a fair fight.

Though I was free, I had no fleet. No matter. With the gam8lignants decim8ed, I'd em8raced the turn in fortune and pledged to put my seagrifting ways 8ehind me. With any luck, the skies will 8e my future. My thoughts again returned to that dragon.

8ut first, I was in need of temporary refuge. I sought it with the expatri8.

He owed me for the sweeps of protection I provided after his 8razen defiance of the High8loods. It was perhaps the only such courageous stand ever taken against a superior 8y one of his supercilious pedigree, and I'd not have 8othered sticking my neck out for another. 8ut the admir8ion he'd won naturally wore thin as he persistently 8emoaned his treason and 8anishment, and I was saddened to find this ha8it holding "STRONG" even now. I wonder if he still 8elieves she was worth it?

Repairing my arm would go a little further in squaring his de8t with me. Even if I came with 8oth intact I might have ripped one off and put him to the task just to halt to his 8lu88ering. Darkleer was always a skilled machinist and the work proved an adequ8 distraction. So pacified, he listened to what I had to say, a8out my recent travails with the law, and Pyralspite, and what I'd come for in truth - the treasure he'd 8een keeping safe for me.

I cradled the oracle in my synthetic hand, as if appraising 8y w8 the mystic qualities it still concealed. With my vision 8fold seared away, I was as 8lind to its secrets as the old Doctor was to its present wherea8outs. I'd learned to keep it cloaked from the awareness of the man who once called me his protege, a 8ackhanded term of endearment from a smug manipul8or. Loc8ing his so called dark pockets was the only gam8it I had in countering his milktongued dou8lespeak. The expatri8 for indiscerni8le reasons seemed naturally surrounded 8y such a void in the Doctor's awareness, and so was uniquely fit to inherit the or8. The Doctor could not see his treasure, nor I into it.

I considered what to do with it for a while. Should I find Pyralspite 8y consulting with the oracle, as I'd done so often to steal fortune from my adversaries? I guessed exploiting some technological means of gazing through its surface may have 8een simple enough, 8ut I hesit8ed. Every expedient granted 8y its counsel, though never instantly, came at a price. Knowing his n8ture, I'm surprised I only now recognize it as yet another instrument of his spurious 8enevolence, dangerous 8y way of selective divulgence. The sense of infalli8ility his oracle 8rought me was superficial, and in hindsight weakened my readiness. Knowing my f8 so far in advance, I took Redglare's threat lightly. The gr8est mistake I have ever made was asking the or8 when I would die.

8ut as I revisited the prophecy surrounding this unfortun8 query, something struck me. I thought of the man I would have as a m8sprit centuries from now, who was said to command an army of 8easts. The one it called the summoner.

If my o8session with the dragon should continue to 8urn for so long, would he 8e the one to assist me in taming it? I did not have enough knowledge to ask the right questions when I had the opportunity. Were that the case, I might have asked if it would 8e his rare a8ilities of communion that would 8ring Pyralspite under control. Would it 8e on account of my influence? And if so, would I exert this influence 8y taking his will, or winning his heart? These are details I would have given no second thought in drawing from the or8, my curiosity a force usually too much to quell. 8ut now...

I have thought of the summoner often. I have 8een trou8led to know that as one so common 8looded, he could not possi8ly have hatched yet, nor will he wriggle from the caverns for many sweeps. So I must have p8tience to take up my role in his story of heroism. It is a tale which reads to me as though lifted from a child's story, yet I know I'd 8e a fool to dou8t its veracity entirely. He would rise through the ranks of the cavalreapers and assume command, having proven the most skilled and fearless of them. He would exhi8it a remarka8le pup8tion, the sort only recorded in myth, growing, or perhaps simply revealing, a striking pair of wings. His army thus inspired would spearhead a major re8ellion. Surely one at least on the scale of the sectarian revolt crushed 8y the High8loods, who thereafter for8ade its mention, or any invoc8tion of the heretical sym69ls at all, even in private journals. Which is why I will stick to the fa8le of the summoner, and not risk another execution with even o8lique reference to the compelling tale of the sufferer.

Resolution to the summoner's mutiny is foggy, as I only understand what has 8een rel8ed to me through the 8rief answers I thought to solicit. Ultim8ely, the ire of the Condesce would 8e such that in the settling dust of the conflict, she would 8anish all from the homeworld, except the young. She would scatter all who reached maturity to the stars to fight her wars, I presume to keep them occupied, existing in a less centralized st8 from which such a coup may arise. This is still an incredi8le notion for me to consider, and I cannot imagine how she would come to enforce such an upheaval in our civiliz8tion. Though I suppose she will have on her side the advantage of an unparalleled lifespan, and the leverage extended 8y the hideous psychic prongs of her deep undul8ing monstrosity. That is, until it chooses another little witch to serve. Nevertheless, I take the prediction as truth, and find it amusing that a homeworld domin8ed 8y children will 8e the gr8 summoner's legacy. One of them, at least.

More importantly, and less amusingly, his legacy will 8e my demise. You see, I first learned his name when I asked who would 8e the one to kill me.

I have never spoken nor written of him out of contempt for the prophecy, 8ut do so here, in my final entry for this journal. I took this to 8e a pitia8le fate, and scoured the or8 for any means of escaping it, or at least, to salvage a little dignity from the tale of my downfall. Alas, it had no consol8tion for my vanity.

8ut as I sit here deciding what to do with the damna8le little sphere, I understand my error. It was not in failing to chart a course through future events to turn my fortune's tide, even so many sweeps from now. It was in 8elieving the future was mine to know, and fortune mine to control. If this hero is meant to 8reathe life into my em8ittered heart, and if he is to earn the right to run it through, then so 8e it. For him, I will commit to this page my highest expect8tions. And for what precious uncertainty is left in my future, I renew my vigorous anticip8tion.

The oracle I will resolve to part with. I will conceal it in a crypt 8earing the sign of the expatr8, with a map to its loc8tion hidden in this journal. To whomever finds it, 8e wary, for the truth it tells may leave its new keeper 8lind as I was. Though no more.