At last I am complete! By merging with the memories of my previous existence I now have full understanding of who I was and who I am. These two existences, of which I was only able to recall the present one, are now entwined and I know everything about myself. Colonel Blimp was an incompetent military commander and an irascible old man, but he was at heart a moral man. He abhorred killing, and despite his more xenophobic opinions, which seem exaggerated even for the time in which he was living, he would always try to do the right and help those that needed help. I had lost all of that. As a Changeling and a soldier in the Summer Court our battle with the Fey had become my only focus; it was a battle that must be fought at all costs and regardless of the consequences. By becoming Blimp as well as Blizzard I can see now that our total disregard for the lives of Mortals caught up in our fight with the Fey makes us little better than the Fey themselves. However harder it makes out fight I understand now that a Mortal life is just as precious as that of a Changeling. It is a moral responsibility we must embrace if we are to rise above the evil nature of our Fey creators. And whilst on the subject of morals, rescuing Lattice from his Fey capture and from the madness consuming his mind was indubitably the right thing to do. Alas, I still have no knowledge of how we escaped our Fey captor but it seems clear from Lattice that we left him behind. I can understand his anger if this truly is the case. But I hope that once his senses are restored and he has come to terms with the 21st Century that he will start to understand that we came for him as soon as we were strong enough. It would have been a tragedy to lose him to madness, and it will be just as great a tragedy to lose him to bitterness.
The situation with Scarecrow continues to be a cause of concern as well as of interest. It was clear that there was something that he was keeping from us after his first interview with Grandfather Thunder, although I can understand his reluctance to be open with Grandfather Thunder. I manipulated one of his dreams in the hope of getting him to share with his Court as I believe that his Queen, ignoring the conceptual flaws in the Autumn Court's view of our fight with the Gentry, would at least provide him with wise council. Whether he did share anything with her I shall probably never know, but it is clear that his ill-advised, desperate, and almost suicidal rush to engage the Man with the Ergot Smile in dream combat suggested that there was still something he was keeping from us. I made it perfectly clear that engaging in such combat would be foolish as our motley was still very inexperienced in dream combat, we had no intelligence on our opponent's abilities, and - most importantly - he appeared to be of no immediate threat. Ceratinly, Scarecrow to present to evidence to justify his insistence that we fight him. I was having nothing to do with such stupidity. I was not entirely surprised that Tweeny and Kyte were drawn in by Scarecrow's desperation, but I was very surprised that the Brotherhood of the Worm were prepared to risk their members on such a reckless plan, particularly as Scarecrow had been a member of their order for only a few hours! Needless to say the whole escapade was a complete fiasco that achieved nothing, having risked much. I take no satisfaction in being proven right; if anything I am angry that Scarecrow would place other members of the motley at risk for reasons that he was never willing to explain. However, some good might have come of it as Scarecrow is acting as if some burden has been lifted from him. But this does seem to have affected his concentration. I've noticed that it seems to take him longer to complete his various research projects than I remember. I believe that Grandfather Thunder is prudent to keep an eye on Scarecrow, which is exactly what I shall be doing.
Our latest mission in Hialeah is proving to be an interesting one. Our investigations are proceeding slowly and our two main leads, being the Cathedral and Professor Rosaletti, seem to be pulling us in separate directions, yet they are clearly related. The connection is the shadows. Whilst inside the Cathedral we were unable to maintain our Masks and shadows seemed to deepen; indeed Kyte acquired a second shadow after performing a Contract. When I was viewing Rosaletti's dream if I tried to interact with the dream, something I have done many times previously, not only did I encounter significant resistance but the shadows deepened and gathered the longer I stayed there. What was of significant interest was the dreaming form of Rosaletti was aware of his predicament and was actually able to issue me a warning to leave the dream or risk entrapment. It is extremely unusual for a Mortal to firstly be aware that they are dreaming, and secondly to interact with their dream. I feel that this of some significance, although we don't have enough information for me to be sure of how it is significant. What does seem clear is that we are up against a powerful opponent. The ease with which it was able to influence us while we were searching Rosaletti's apartment and to place us in soporific stupors was alarming. My instincts suggest that this must be the work of the Fey, but the creature's (if indeed we are facing something could be described as a "creature") desire to have Rosaletti recite a demonic summoning incantation during his speech indicates that it might well be something else. We clearly have more investigation to perform, and the starting point has to be the Catholic priest; there is no doubt that he his hiding something.
So it transpired that Cathedral and Rosaletti were linked, but perhaps not in the way we might have expected: Rosaletti had foolish summoned a sloth demon in order to get a position at the University, but when the sloth demon started to ruin Rosaletti's new life in desperation he tried to make a pact with the extremely more powerful demon that had been imprisoned within the Cathedral at the start of the 20th Century. One thing that was absolutely clear to me was that Rosaletti had to die. The man was weak willed, lazy, and utterly foolish. Rather than acquire a position with the University on his own merits he made a pact with a demon. Despite his relief when we were able to free him from the sloth demon nothing in his words or mannerisms convinced me that he had learnt anything from his experience. My opinion was that if his life where to take an expected turn in the future he would have no hesitation in doing something as stupid again. He was just as arrogant and selfish after his experience as before. Thus I had no qualms in ridding the world of this stupid and potential dangerous Mortal. Out of this most recent investigation what made the greatest impression on me was not the discovery that demons can be so manifest in the Mortal realm, after all we had previously readily killed a Sorcerer because he believed he was capable of summoning a demon, but rather the power the that the Rector had because of his faith. Here is a truly exceptional Mortal. He can accept the existence of the Lost as abominations, albeit not necessarily malevolent abominations, along with the existence of demons within the world by simplifying them as machinations of the devil. His concept of good and evil is utterly polarised, almost childlike; and yet it took his absolute faith in his god in order to exorcise the sloth demon from Rosaletti. Despite our greater knowledge and power we were unable to do anything in the face of such a formidable entity; instead we required the naive, almost wilfully ignorant, faith of the Rector to actually defeat the demon. I find this thought very sobering, and it is a point well worth remembering.
I have to remark that Kyte's reaction to having one of his kidney's stolen was significantly calmer than I suspect my reaction would have been. Or at least his reaction to the actual perpetrators was calmer. He was probably raging inside but the only time this manifested itself was when the security guard at Forester's apartment was not going to let us in. He was just an innocent person doing his job but when he refused Kyte's bribe that was the only time that the rage inside Kyte became noticeable. At this point the security guard was the block in our attempts to recover Kyte's kidney and it then that Kyte pulled his gun; and I genuinely believe that he would have killed the guard if he had refused to co-operate. Conversely, and just as surprisingly, when we confronted the actual culprits - Forester and Hernandez - Kyte showed clemency. Forester, as a fellow Lost, had to be executed for the crimes she committed against others of her kind, yet I was the one to perform the execution. Once she had told us everything Kyte seemingly lost interest in her, and I believe he would have let her go despite the instrumental role that she played in his misfortunate. Hernandez, who actually removed the kidney, I cared nothing for as he was just a Mortal. I left his fate to Kyte, and Kyte was more interested in recovering the money he had had to spend on medical treatment. Having procured this from Hernandez he let him go - another cause of surprise to me. I would most certainly not have done the same. Kyte's reaction to this sorry affair seemed indicative of the malaise that affects the other Courts: rather than seeking justice on those who wronged him Kyte was focused entirely on his own well-being. The parallel between this and our battle with the Gentry is obvious. This seems to be yet another demonstration of why Grandfather Thunder has taken the correct course of action in Miami.
I have returned to composing my Journal entries by hand. My computer was starting to act strangely, to the point that it was most disconcerting. Whenever I was typing the computer would beep out the Morse equivalent of the key I had just pushed; it was as if the message were being send by telegraph. From what I know of the technology of this Century it is simply not possible for a computer to do this, so I have been understandably reluctant to ask anyone to look at this problem. I find myself wondering whether the problem really is with the technology. I have noticed several strange occurrences recently, all related to my perception of the world. For example, I mistook an automobile for a hansom carriage. I know for sure that this failure of perception was mine: not only did Flickering Ember fail to notice anything unusual, but I also know that it is impossible for a horse-drawn hansom carriage to travel on 21st Century freeway. So logically I know that this incident did not, nay could not, occur, yet I perceived it with every icy essence of my being. It could not happen; it did not happen; yet I believed that it was happening. In a moment of curiosity (not requiring sleep does have many benefits) I re-read my Journal entries it seems to me as if I have never been happy in this Century. Before I knew that I had been Colonel Augustus Blimp this Century confused and disorientated me. Once I reacquired my memories then it only seems to disappoint me: it lacks any sense of moral decency; it seems utterly corrupt and nasty; technology has made people lazy and apathetic. More than anything else it lacks purpose. There is no sense of national pride, primarily because nations seem to run only to make the super rich even richer. The British Empire was what made Britain great and gave rise to a sterling generation of men who worked for its betterment. Take away the Empire, the sense of purpose, and a void is created into which pour those people who seek only their own betterment. The point of this reflection is that I am starting to wonder if the unusual visions I am perceiving are a call from inside of me, a call that I seek to return to the world in which I truly belonged. One wonders if this is possible to actually achieve?
I have resumed using a computer for my Journal entries. The ink I was using when composing them by hand seemed to have strange auto-spell properties. I have never heard of such technology, and it is extremely disconcerting to see words I have spelled incorrectly in ink writhe and contort themselves and form the correct spelling. Somehow I can accept that on a computer, possibly because there is no writhing involved. It appears that Grandfather Thunder's suggestion that I keep an eye on Scarecrow was an extremely sensible one. Scarecrow's behaviour during our most recent escapade has been bizarre, even by his standards. For reasons I cannot fathom he has developed and irrational and illogical dislike, possibly even hatred, of Lattice. Where the rest of us are pleased to see that Lattice has recovered from his trauma and come to terms with the 21st Century, Scarecrow is behaving like a spoilt first child on the birth of a second child. He seems to resent Lattice on both a personal level as well as his new status as a member of our motley. Were this the only manifestation of Scarecrow's strange behaviour I would not be alarmed. However, he has let his bizarre prejudices affect his approach to our investigations. When Lattice produced a precise and clear representation of the symbols that only he could see Scarecrow rejected them outright and refused to investigate. When he later made his own observations, which took significantly longer (and I am reminded of a comment I made in an earlier entry about the quality and speed of his work recently), and they matched exactly what Lattice had found, not a word of apology escaped him. It is almost as if he is deliberately trying to slow down our investigations; the implications of which, if it is true, are extremely serious.
I'm home! It's incredible but I do believe it is actually true! Last time we found ourselves in Victorian London it was quickly apparent that we were in a dream. This time I believe it is different, and we are actually here. We found a gateway to what I gather is called Limbo. I have been here previously, back before we were Taken, led by Father O'Brien, and we were able to travel rapidly between London and Cornwall. I have the empirical evidence to prove that this happened: it was not a dream or a hallucination, or gas induced as I rashly believed at the time; and so, having travelled once again through Limbo, I have to conclude that it has brought us through time as a well as space, and that the date is genuinely 1895. My first business was to destroy my Fetch, the Doppelganger dispatched by the Fey to replace me. Fortunately this was easily done and I was able to do so without alerting any members of my household. Now I can think of nothing stopping me resuming my old life. While I shall miss my dealings with the Summer Court in Miami in the 21st Century, I shall endeavour to make contact with the Summer Court operating in London in 1895 and offer them my services. It is somewhat alarming that one of our first encounters should be with agents of Mr. Smythe, but I fail to see how we pose a threat to him. Perhaps there is more going on than we currently aware, having only been back for a day we have no idea what our Fetches were up to. I am hoping that our previous dealings with Mr. Smythe will make him open to negotiation. It is with great interest that I wonder how the rest of our motley will react to being home. With neither Kyte nor Scarecrow having full recall of their Mortal lives I suspect they will be keen to return to the 21st Century. I am not so sure about Tweeny, but then he is prone to rash decisions. I suspect that Lattice will wish to remain with me, although I am not sure on what terms he will wish to remain.
This shall be my last entry. I have been home for several months now and at least feel truly complete. The 21st Century was not a place for a Changeling like myself. I can honestly say I miss nothing from that dreadful time: even the technological benefits I no longer have access to mean nothing to me. I have my had my mobile phone mounted in a case on the wall in the drawing room. It is a welcome reminder of that awful time and place. Occasionally I find myself missing Kyte and Scarecrow; or rather I find myself curious about their fate as they decided to return to 21st Century Miami to stop Smythe's plans. Should I care that, if Symthe's boasting is to be believed (and my dealings with the man suggest that, like many a braggart, his designs often outpace his abilities) then 21st Century Miami was utterly destroyed? Possibly. Do I care? Not a jot. It is another time belonging to another world. I have still to make any contact with the Lost in present day London. Perhaps I will one day. For the time being my soul awash in the pleasures of being back in the smog. Once again I am a man of the Empire enjoying my wealth, my Club, and my Estates. After all I've seen and done I could not possibly ask for a more fitting close to my tale.
Last updated: February 27, 2014