The blackness permeating my mind began to recede as some measure of
clarity - no, wrong word, for even a psychopath can rationalize their
delusions as the product of unfettered reason. Let us say, then, that
sanity - that most precious commodity which sorts the mighty from the
fallen - had put in a cameo appearance after being most markedly
absent.
Yet the shadows plaguing my mind only gave way to others, for my
present quarters were little more than an oubliette hewn out of the
rock. My bonds were wrought from sorcery, not steel, by my betters in
the arts. Useless to even try breaking them.
They say that all security involves tradeoffs. So, too, must freedom.
What a crock of shit. But, misery loves company, and so I joined the
ranks of the deluded.
I assayed the Logrus to gain freedom, and found only chains.
Prison is full of innocent men, each with their unique story. Permit
me to tell you mine; it would be a small kindness, something to help
pass the time in this lightless, festering hole that is my personal
domain.
I am a scion of Amber, but one in whom the blood of Chaos also flows.
I shall not bore you with speculation as to which heritage runs
stronger in my veins; it would be meaningless to all but myself and
my enemies. Being as you are not me, if I were to tell you, well,
then, as the saying goes, I'd have to kill you. Hardly the way to
treat a guest, and I'm so damned bored, slitting your throat would
seriously curtail any entertainment value you might have to offer.
The Pattern? Oh, yes. Been there, done that, got the t-shirt. As a
philosopher on Shadow Earth might have said, to understand Chaos,
first embrace stability.
Stability is boring. Overrated. Things? Things are a substitute for
power, gifts we bestow upon ourselves to bolster fragile constructs
of ego. I know people on both sides of reality who could kill you
with their brain - everyone else needs a blunt object, or at least a
blunt truth or three.
Assaying the Logrus after taking the Pattern is like learning the
secret behind a magic trick. Well, more like mugging the magician and
torturing him for the information. You learn to see the cracks, walk
through them, around them, exploit them.
At least in theory. The Keepers haven't let me out yet. Get this, I
master the Logrus, the embodiment of Chaos ... and I'm too dangerous
to roam the streets, it seems. Too unstable, too unpredictable.
What a joke.
Whether it's on me or them remains to be seen.