Excerpts from Fatima's Journal (Post Radiant War, Pre Amber Coronation)
It is with a fine sense of irony that I eventually take your advice, brother. And though I choose the conceit of addressing these journal entries to you, Prince Merlin, it is my intention that neither you nor any of my kindred (nor hopefully anyone in all of Reality) ever discover that they exist.
I doubt you would even remember our discussion that evening under the Citrion Peragola. You were kind. That *I* remember.
Even though your own situation required so very much more from you in terms of adaptation to this... world of Argent. And that you and I are so very different in our basic neural structures. Still you were kind. And not unsympathetic to the difficulties I faced in adjusting to this world so very much wider than any I could have ever conceived of from my narrow slot, my narrow viewpoint, my narrow existence.
Among the many suggestions you offered -- and I so negligently discarded that night -- was this one. A journal. A way to give framework via words to all the thoughts, feelings and impressions that threaten daily to overwhelm me.
Well, my dear brother, I have run out of my own ideas for dealing with this world, this wonderful horrible world, and have decided to at least attempt one of yours. Though, of course, being myself I shall neither tell you that I am doing so nor thank you for the reprieve it gains me.
For that, I apologize, oh my brother. But I also apologize in the same unbeknownst to you silence that this journal is written. I guess we're both just going to have to live with that.
A pretty introduction. And one that neatly avoids the very purpose for which I put words to page. Ah Fatima. Why is the very act of creation so anathema to you that you dodge it at every opportunity?
Anyway, forward. Lest I become as mad as my elder kin.
Spppeeeeaking of which -- my father, the King...
I have read his memoirs. Perhaps not as deeply as would be prudent to someone in my position. But I find them... rather juvenile, frankly. And certainly over-dramatic. And yet, I find in the man who wrote those much that is similar to myself. This... disturbs me.
Once, back in New Mecca, I accidentally caught a glimpse of my Psych Profile. Depressive tendencies were the words that leapt off the InfoPaDD at me. And certainly the very situation that I find myself in now, that of having to write in tones overly angst-ridden and dramatic... these are definitely things that I may have inherited from my father as opposed to my vivacious and practical mother.
Regardless... something that is not at all inherited from my father.
I say that I saw my Psych Profile accidentally because, of course, I would never do something so contrary to official policy as to investigate one's private records myself. The fact that this statement is not at all ironic, I also find... disturbing.
Argent is not the place to be a blind follower of orders. Neither was New Mecca, of course. But the cost for that error is so much graver here than it would have eventually been in New Mecca. I must find some way to avoid this tendency in myself while still remaining utterly loyal to my King, my city and my world.
And why must I remain utterly loyal, you ask? Because... because I *do not understand!!* this world, this place. There are... GIANTS here. Gods. Beings whose power is beyond my comprehension. Whose age and experience is unimaginable by me. People who... who can predict my next thought more easily than I can think it. People who can tear apart my very mind and rebuild it in such a way as I would never even know that I as an individual had died.
Prince Brand... terrifies me. I wish he did not even know that I existed. I do not understand what kind of being he is, nor how to avoid or mollify him. His gaze... chills me to the bone.
The others -- Caine, my father, mad Aunt Fiona, bad Uncle Random, those of Chaos who sent assassins against me, even you, my half-Chaosian brother -- all of these are powerful. VERY powerful. And deserve respect and wariness. But they are understandable to me. They act as humans do.
But Brand... Allah spare me from his notice ever again. Hopefully, this last little interaction of ours has convinced him that I am a simple, simple creature operating under a simple set of rules and he will turn that terrible curiosity of his elsewhere. Inshallah!
I... is it cowardice on my part? I have tried. I have *tried.* But somehow, I cannot find a way to breach the armor I have built around myself. My siblings... I do not want us to become what our Aunts and Uncles have become. And so I have reached out to them as best as I was able.
It turns out that that's not very good at all.
I... I am an enormous wet-blanket. A downer. (Depressive tendencies, remember?) I don't know why I am surprised. I was not a 'friend' or 'social' in New Mecca either. In this place... shit.
I had so hoped. A sister, Kei. Also formally trained and from a conservative culture. At first we seemed to share so much -- a desire to rid Argent of its Night Walkers, a desire to serve, a desire to be sisters...
I still don't know what happened. I am... closed out of her life. She will not turn to me for anything. And I know nothing of her mind. Perhaps it is because I was completely unable to find the killer of her mother or to aid her as she needed in that most desperate hour. I... just don't know.
Sterling. So similar to myself. Former law enforcement. A fine sense of firearms...
I don't know what happened there either. Perhaps I was too threatened when he first proposed his Silver Knights, too territorial. I *do* know that whatever it is, it is *not* *his* *fault.* Something in me reacts defensively to Sterling. Never the most open of people to start with, Sterling brings out the closed doors in me in a way I could not have imagined and don't understand.
Rune... even his name makes me smile. His presence makes me laugh. For just a moment before I become irritated with his constant childishness. I believe he is capable of taking something seriously... is he capable of showing that he takes something seriously? I love Rune. In small doses.
Thank Allah, he is able to take me in small doses as well. I think we both so very much want to like one another that we will *make* it happen. Even though it is entirely unnatural.
Wynn -- the angry stranger. Him I watch. Of all of us, Wynn is the most likely to lead an army against Argent. His grievance against father is just. But I cannot allow that to undermine my commitment to protect Argent. In my estimation, it is Wynn that I will most likely 'cross blades with' as they say here. But I have no wish to ever fight any of my siblings.
And then there is Kevin....
Oh my brother, why is it Kevin that I am so attr fond of?
I am not naive nor so deluded that I do not understand what Kevin is. My beloved brother is a conscienceless sociopath who is capable of anything. In this, he is very much the seed from which horrors like Uncle Brand grow. And yet, and yet... he delights me.
Every moment around him lightens my heart, eases my weariness. Even though I know that with every word he betrays me. Perhaps it is because of this that I am so comfortable around him.
Perhaps.... perhaps the reason that my siblings rarely invite me into their lives or along for their adventures is not so much because I am a wet-blanket, but that they can sense that I too am conscienceless. Substituting duty for morals.
You know? One of the things I like so much about Rinaldo is that we can safely use one another without ever having to worry about emotional involvement.
