Yes, I’ve been lax in my memoirs of late, but I’ve good explanation for this. One cannot be assured of any measure of privacy when one cannot get home. While my trust in the Empress is unwavering, that trust does not extend to every member of the staff in her palace, no matter how well kept the rooms I was given where. Yes, I spent some time at court. Though I notice that there’s a small gap to fill in before that, though the explanation is similar.
Let us see, yes, I’d been on an expedition with the firebrand and consort, and just as we where in need of a cinder I encountered a pony, with a cinder wrapped in robes of deepest red. At the time I did not know what it was, but the arrival of the cinder, with a note demanding the return of the pony, addressed to me, it unnerved me. I do admit I left them standing near the cave, who’s location I will not discuss even in my own memoirs. I fled.
I did indeed discover what the robe was when I saw the Mr Sackes wearing them. I was generous to Mr Sacks, however many of them there where, even the one fake, I fed him. I fed them all. Though I did join with the university to make investigation, and discovered there was a link with the norman. Norman. Indeed.
You might see why I’d not updated? I could not be sure that the hiding place would be secure with visitors every day, and when my investigation lead to the sunken, sundered sea, that great pool of sorrow and tears… A Norman of my own, and if you are going to distrust anybody, the person you must distrust most is yourself.
I gave to him. Oddly I can’t remember much of what I gave, I taught him lessons and I felt something leave me as he grew. Never more then a waxy shadow, but he grew wise with secrets, and as he passed imparted one last to me, though as he was me I am sure such a secret is writ on my own heart. Writ on my heart, but no easy way to read it.
Now that I am alone again, well I am sure he read it, either way nither of us wrote any notes here. Of him and this time I will say only one more thing, I put on the robe and joined the silent Sackes on the very last day. Deep into the Bazaar, I found my empty sack filled with just one more item. Another Cinder, this one carved, half way, with the runes of the correspondence. I think that this Mr. <illegible> may have been the one to send the cinder before, but even here in my own rooms I dare not say more.
So yes, I fled. I did not dare to return home where this sat. I went so far as to find a new home, well, not a new home but another residence to hide in, as have I need. A fine temple on the edge of that sea, a remnant from the third city. It was from there that I did depart for the palace, and then from the palace I charmed my way into the court.
I made quite an attempt at the position of artist in residence. Poems, books, quiet songs, even a scandalous symphony to please the consort, and it did. Though none of it charmed them enough. Likewise charming was the company of, well I admit, both that of a witty lady and a beauty of a man. They seemed to have such followings and I knew I had to sample the delights of that company myself. Yet, as I got to know him, I found his heart was still hers, it was only the memory of scars that caused him to turn from her. Likewise the lady, while she is known for her wit, and the sharpness of her tongue, it is in defense, and to worry that she would always be compared to his good looks when they where together, she could not stand it. In the end I played up to them both, caught them by surprise and well, I’ve a memento of it. I will say only that I brought them together, that I hope it lasts, and nothing more.
It was in the flush of triumph after this that I let the sour words slip into my ear, that no matter how well I could do this, and no matter how much I could write that the Empress would never be satisfied with my work enough to make me artist in residence, not if I followed the rules. Breaking the rules worked better with the two lovers, and thus was I talked into writing an opera. Nither quiet nor proper where the actions of the saints in this show. I dare say that if I’d known the ending would never be shown, I would not have bothered to write that third act.
I should also say that the tomb colonies are not as bad as people say, though perhaps it is because I was able to return. If I’d lived there and been as wrapped as them, never to return, yes, perhaps.
On my return though, flush with new experiance, I did dive into the back streets and finished the final paperwork with Falworths, and the word slowly went out. I am not much of somebody, but I am a somebody of some importance, and that will only grow.
Now I am going out again, and it might be some time before I write. I’ve supplies to pack, and expeditions, to the cave, to the sanctuary, and to polythreme, perhaps even with my own ship.