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Blizzards Journal

ENTRY ONE: January 4th, 2010

I can scarce believe the date I have written above. It is the 21st Century. The 21st Century! But then the frantic assault of memories is overwhelming. It is like finding oneself in a blizzard, but instead of each snowflake offering the wonder of uniqueness to my icy heart, each snowflake is a separate memory. Were I able to view each snowflake individually I could make sense of it, but assailed in a blizzard I am overwhelmed. Who is Augustus Blimp? Is that really me; indeed was that really me? How can I be anything other than who I am: Colonel Blizzard? I have vivid memories of places called England and London but have I really been to these places? Why I am so sure that carriages should be driven by horses that these gas powered automobiles should be so strange to me? How is it I can be absolutely certain that I am speaking English yet I can barely comprehend a sentence spoken by the people we have encountered? I do not even understand why I am so shocked that it is the 21st Century. Why should I be shocked? And what are we fleeing? I have flickered recollections of terrible things. These are snowflakes in this blizzard of memory that I feel I do not want to encounter, but how am I to avoid them? I am sure I am not mortal and that the policeman and others we encountered are mortal. This seems to offer me some kind of power over them. But why are they not perturbed by my icy visage? We are clearly different to them yet they treat us as equals, until with our words we fail to grasp their reality. I wonder if their reality is something I would ever truly want to grasp. I feel a desperate urge to flee. We have escaped through The Hedge but we are not sure what we have escaped from. Knowing nothing of one's pursuer is a terrible curse: how driven are they to follow us and what powers to they have to do so? We know none of these things. I have this urge to flee but I have no knowledge of when it will be safe to stop fleeing. I'm sure this would drive many to the pits of despair. We need to find help, but where can we find it? Our inability to grasp the world in which we have found ourselves has alienated those we have encountered. There has to be some way to find help, but I fear that until we can fully understand this place we will not have the means to do so. Without knowing why I am certain that I do not want to go back, even though I cannot recall what I would be returning to. I also feel as if I want to fight but I do not know what to fight. Fighting this world in which we have found ourselves seems to be a poor choice, at least while we do not understand it. What then do I wish to make a stand against? I am overwhelmed by questions in a strange land. But one thing is absolutely certain to me: I shall not lose hope. Like the chill ravages of the North Wind, Colonel Blizzard is relentless!

ENTRY TWO: January 5th, 2010

So now I at least understand some of my confusion. We really have been gone 120 years. In some ways it is good that I have so little recollection of the world I used to inhabit that the contrast is perhaps less shocking. Nevertheless, either as a result of my 120 year old memories or my lack of recollection, I cannot understand this world and I cannot understand what people are saying to me. Perhaps, as Blue Jenny suggested, it will be easy to adapt and to learn. In my cold heart I do not think so, and I think that I may not want to learn. But it would appear as if I have no choice. There is no way to reclaim my missing 120 years, and I have an overwhelming impression of not wanting to return to the Fae, although I'm not sure why this is such a strong impression. The Hedge is too dangerous to call home: we have been attacked on both our encounters with it, and it appears mercurial. If we cannot adapt to this world then little incidences as we had the police will become more frequent and more serious. One thing is certain: I will not adapt to this world through a life of menial servitude as Blue Jenny advocated. Someone, or something, stole my life, and while I may not want this life back I want someone to pay. And I want it to stop. I am frightened and lost, and I want to do everything in my power to stop this happening to others. So this is why the Summer Court and John St Elmo appeal to me. It seems that this Blimp character who I once was recognised the importance of discipline, of a chain of command, and of strong leadership. These values appeal to me. Where Blue Jenny sees tyranny in Grandfather Thunder I hope for strong leadership. Clearly the extraordinary world and our extraordinary circumstances call for a strong leader. Blue Jenny seems only to want to hide and to blindly hope that everything will go away. I think part of me can understand that, but a greater part of me finds this abhorrent. A stand has to be made. Let us see how this Grandfather Thunder measures up. If he is truly making a stand for the betterment of our kind then he is a leader I can follow. And now I know for sure that something - some Fae - has changed me from being a human and mortal into the frosty shape I now bear. Of all the shocks I have received this is the easiest to bear. In some ways this aspect of the tragedy that seems to befallen us seems to be the one blessing. Having now seen what the mortal world has become in our absence I find myself glad that I am not part of it; glad that my heart is made of ice and that my body is crystalline. I like that feeling. It is not one of superiority, but rather of a comforting otherness. I do not want to become a part of this world, yet I have no choice. My chill form, while not discernable by mortals, is a constant reminder to me of my uniqueness from these mortals. If I have to call this world of the 21st century my home I find it comforting to have to do so from this position of being outside of it, and never truly able to become integrated. I think there is strength to had from this.

ENTRY THREE: January 6th, 2010

I am now a member of the Summer Court. I have many hopes and now feel some sense of grounding in this strange and unfamiliar place. It is clear that the other Courts see Grandfather Thunder as little more as tyrant and are only playing lip service to him while he has the power. I suspect at this first sign of weakness they will pounce. However, my concerns are less political and more material. The Summer Court may more accurately reflect the anger I can feel like so many vicious icicles slashing at my insides, but my main motivation for joining them is because they can help me find my way in this very odd reality of the 21st Century. They have offered me a new identity, found me a job which will provide money, and can train me how to navigate through the staggering technological wonders that are familiar and comfortable to others. For that alone they have my thanks and loyalty. Without such assistance I know my time here would have been short and painful. The politics, at least at this early stage of my introduction to the Summer Court, is largely immaterial to me. Perhaps that may change as I become more comfortable with my fate; only time will tell. And what marvellous weapons they have! The sense of awe and sheer power when I emptied the entire clip of this M16 rifle was almost palpable. With such technology fighting anything seems possible; and there is an immense feeling of safety to be had in this. And armour that can literally stop bullets! I cannot wait to see this velcro invention that Scarecrow talks of that can actually make a man invisible! The possibilities are staggering! I can perhaps understand why the Red Badge faction of the Northern Summer Court seem filled with an almost suicidal enthusiasm to fight. The sense of power this technology offers is astonishing. But I shall try to resist any such reckless urges. It would appear as if this Blimp character was a military man, and it is probably this that leaves me with an adversity to directionless action. The most successful victories are those that are planned. A good general knows that when not to fight is as important as when it is to fight. I shall try to proceed with caution.

ENTRY FOUR: January 7th, 2010

To be on our first mission for the Summer Court is both exhilarating and frightening. I am honoured by the trust placed in us by John St.Elmo, and the generous assistance provided to us by the Summer Court, but I am also frightened of having to make our way alone through the world of the 21st Century so soon after arriving, and while it is so unfamiliar to us. My attempts to become slightly more familiar with it under the tutelage of Flickering Ember were singularly unsuccessful and demonstrate how far I have to go if I am to ever begin to understand this reality. But regardless of this fear I shall do the best job that I can on this mission, both to try and impress my new friends, and to try to repay the debt I owe the Court for the help it provided us. It shames me to think of how ungrateful Kyte, and to a lesser extent Scarecrow, are to the Court. They seem to take the massive assistance the Court has offered to them for granted. I hope that I won't regret the decision not to join John St.Elmo's motley. I find Kyte's reluctance to join any of the Courts very strange. I believe we need all the help we can get in this strange place. I am starting to suspect that Kyte might be content to try and exploit the position the rest of the motley hold within the Courts in order to survive this world. I shall be doing my utmost to deter that. Kyte is my friend and part of my motley but he cannot expect the Summer or Autumn Courts to keep providing for him. He also needs to be made to understand that his lack of identity puts the entire motley at risk. Our first tentative steps into official Changeling business and operations has illustrated just how blind the mortals can be. They seem to have an incredible capacity to ignore the obvious in order to maintain the illusion of their reality. Mrs. Johnstone somehow overlooking that her dog doesn't leave any mess anywhere (with the exception of one instance that probably bears closer examination) in order to convince herself that the creature they have allowed into their home is normal puppy is a fine example. Nevertheless, regardless of their willful ignorance they are defenseless against the machinations of the Gentry, even though their ignorance makes it easier for the Gentry to hatch the mischievous schemes, and I feel that we must do all we can to help them avoid our fate. It comes as little surprise to me that Kyte, whatever his failings, would be the member of our mostly most likely to adapt easily to this world. His ingratiation of the sick boy and his father was an excellent piece of work where the rest of us are still too uncomfortable with this world to risk exposure by such interaction. I shall seek to emulate some of his confidence.

ENTRY FIVE: January 7th, 2010 (con't)

It feels very good to be doing something with purpose at long last. In this unfamiliar place working towards a specific goal helps the unfamiliarity fade somewhat. I know it is still there, and there are many issues I have with this world that will need resolving, but trying to do something to prevent the Fae creatures drain the Mortal children shifts my focus. For the time being I can justify ignoring my problems with coping with the 21st century. I find it strange that helping the Mortals could be so comforting. I am under no illusions that this is altruism. My reasons are selfish: I relish the mission for the comfort it offers me, not because I am helping others. And I have noticed that my chill heart is conceptualising my fight against the Fae. I care nothing for the fate of the individual Mortal children we are helping. It is becoming clear that the concept of wanting to stop the Fae repeating what they did to me stems not through any sense of moral outrage at the fate of innocent Mortals, but rather from wanting to strike back at the Fae by stopping them. Thus it is the concept of what the Fae do that I rail against and not the affect it has an individual Mortal; nor any individual Lost for that matter. My frosty inner being appears to care nothing for individuals but only for larger concepts. And if it takes the suffering of Mortal children to draw out the Fae creatures so that we can fight them, then so be it. My telephonic communication with John St. Elmo outside the house of the Hag has made me appreciate that we can use the technology of this 21st century to fight the Fae. The Fae are ancient creatures who seem to want to blend into the world only in order to achieve their nefarious goals. My experience, which is admittedly extremely limited, suggests that the Fae creatures are less likely to use the technology, possibly for fear of exposure with their unfamiliarity, after all this world is not their home. But it is now our home, for better of worse, and I think that we must understand and utilise the technology in our fight. If only it wasn't so alien to me. I can only hope that with time it will become easier for me to understand this world. I have to admit that I despair at some my colleagues. All the warnings we have received about the Hedge made it clear that it is a dangerous place. It seemed perfectly obvious that the shopkeeper Hobb was up to something as his shop stocked the most outrageous objects that we could ask for. This, coupled with the dire warnings we had received, should have alerted Scarecrow and Tweeny, yet they both fell prey to the strange magics of the shop. What with their tomfoolery and Kyte's reluctance to join a Court and get a new identity, I fear my time in the 21st century could end being brief and unpleasant! I suppose I should count my blessings that none of them stumbled off the path to look at the strange item we encountered. The fact that it appeared differently to all us suggested it was another trick by the Hedge, fortunately one they were able to resist. Hopefully their foolishness with the shop has furnished them with a valuable lesson.

Last updated: February 27, 2014