Tome II:
A Reprieve in Shadow
The trip there...Even now...it is all a blur. The events that lead me to this place seem confused...a dark and twisted dream. I had just endured the searing agonies of Quynn's demonic binding spells, and had the King ripped from my psyche and cast back into the Abyssal prison known as Carcosa. The gate closed, I was removed from my only recently found source of power, and yet somehow my abilities remained. With Cassilda in hand, I fled Mythos...moving through the cracks of shadow.
I've heard of how the Amberites move through shadow...a simple effort of adding and subtracting features, changing a color here and a texture there, until at last they are where they choose to be. For me, it is very different. The powers of the Dark Pattern are much less simplistic. I began by scanning for that tinge of death in Mythos...for all things die...and soon came across the dusty skeleton of some rodent, forgotten in a little used corridor. And then it was another place...the stone now grey instead of green, the halls cobweb-choked and still. We made our way back to the ruined main hall, and through a hole in the ceiling I could see the moonlit night. I stretched my arms, and changed...and grew wings, pale and leathery...like those of a gigantic bat. I cradled Cassilda in my arms and flew though the crack into the night sky.
From above the mausoleum we had just exited lay cradled amidst smaller stone houses...a city of the dead. The mist was beginning to rise, and I flew onwards...over cemetery after cemetery...for two days. Cassilda drifted to sleep in my arms...and I continued, feeling some strange call deep in my mind. Eventually a storm rose up and we were forced to take shelter in one of the ruined places. Bordering the cemetery was a dark forest, and here I used one of the few spells remaining...a minor conjuration left for me by the King in Yellow...a spell of conjuration. In one hand the soil from a long forgotten grave, in the other, a brittle bone...and thus appeared a great bone chariot drawn by two dark horses. I cradled Cassilda in the carriage, and took the driver's seat...lashing the beasts onwards through the dark forest.
We encountered a road, and the bone chariot became black, lacquered wood...the horses became six-legged...and then the dirt road became cobblestone and we encountered an abandoned city...and still I continued. Through shadow, I continued to move through those dead lonely places, 'til at last the chariot and horses became a hearse...and I drove until I encountered a lit city...Arkham by name. The vehicle slowed a mile outside the city limits...out of gas. I woke Cassilda, and we began to walk the rest of the way. She notice that our dress had changed; I was wearing a dark yellow sweater, black slacks, and a black trench coat, while she wore a deep blue skirt, sweater, white blouse, and grey overcoat. I looked back and the hearse was already gone...and a light rain came down. Cassilda pulled out an umbrella, and we continued to Arkham, huddled together in the cold damp night.
Adapting to a new home...
Arriving in Arkham, I hailed a cab and had us taken to a hotel. The money Mandor had given me in Amber had transformed to the paper currency of this place. At the hotel we secured rooms, and I immediately retired to my room alone. Cassilda seemed worried about my mental health...had a number of questions she tried to ask...assurances she wanted to make...but I asked her to give me some time alone. From my bedroom was a balcony...and so I stood out in the night...feeling the cold rain on my face. As I looked out over the city, I felt something...some faint connection to the Dark Pattern...this would be my new home. And do I extended my will and began to take control of this shadow...deceptively easy...to take this reality and bend it to my will. First and foremost I needed time...and so the time flow sped up. In Amber, hours would pass to the months here. I needed this time to recuperate and rest. Then I began to modify this place...using the knowledge I had garnered about this place from the books, for I believed myself to be on Earth. A house...a car...a bank account...an identity...and soon all was in place. I looked in my wallet and smiled over the strange plastic card which identified me as Konrad Visceratus, of 14 Willow Lane in Arkham. I heard Cassilda enter the balcony behind me, and looked to see her confused expression. "What have you done," she asked. "I have made us a home, Cassilda." And then I smiled...and fainted.
When I awoke, we were in some place I didn't recognize at first...save that it felt like home. Cassilda was there, seated in a plush chair reading from some large tome. She looked up at me and smiled.... I was home.
Konrad Visceratus was the only son of a wealthy Bostonian couple that had died in a tragic auto accident. Cassilda DeCustine was an artist by trade, from New Zealand originally. We lived in a large Victorian house in the suburbs of Arkham, and spent our days doing nothing more than enjoying life. We took in plays, concerts, movies, museums, and art exhibitions...we traveled...dined out frequently...and began to pursue our respective interests. Cassilda began to paint again...and I enrolled in the university...testing out of many 'required' courses...and going on to pursue a medical degree. I completed a double major, a BS in Biochemistry and Psychology, and then went onto graduate study in Psychiatry...and eventually changed my focus to pursuing a medical degree. In school I met Dr. Channard, head of a major psychiatric institution...and began to learn that this was not Earth, as I had originally thought, but another place which I would come to think of as the Channard Institute, which would be my eventual sanctuary...for here I would learn so much more than any university could teach.