Part 47: The Name-Which-Burns

Journal entry 46 – The Name-Which-Burns

From The Journal of Captain Petra Blackwood,

February 5th, 1889

The repairs have been completed, and it's time to leave.



My new fame in London has made it remarkably easy to recruit new zailors. Almost as soon as I put out the word, I had more than enough hands to run the ship. An able crew that will easily get me to Frostfound to claim the Name.



We need only make a few final preparations. I've had our hold emptied of things that are not of vital importance. Frivolous things, boxes and books, fit for the bottom of the harbor. To be replaced with fuel and food to allow us to explore farther.




As soon as the hold is filled, we will be departing for Frostfound. I do not expect it will be easier than last time; but I am different now. I am prepared to face the icy halls once more. The light inside will sustain me.



February 6th, 1889



Once more, I've landed at Frostfound and braved those frozen halls.




I was afraid, but I understood my fear better. I did not fight this place, this time.








And in the innermost halls of the place, I confronted my demons and my fears, and I proved I was their master.



Thus was I permitted into the very depths of Frostfound, into its still, dark heart.






Even in this darkness, though, I was not afraid. I had brought my light with me, burned into me on the surface and in the South and in every other direction one can go. I could not see, I simply closed my eyes and I felt.



I've learned things one cannot imagine, memories abandoned in that frozen place. And more than memories, I found the Name.



My Name.





I remember being someplace far from here, and being sent to recover treasures. Sent down into this oppressive darkness. I lived not-so far, but also wildly distant.




Who I am, who I could have been, these fight and roll inside of my head like wolves. It is too much. I must be one person if I am to have the Name, not some forsaken amalgam like Shelly's monster. Fortunately, I know a place where I can forget most of this. I can become one being by cutting away all that I do not want to carry forward. That I want to carry East.

All that remained was to dispel the madness and fear that had come over me – and for that, I had brought assistance with me, into the darkness.




It is not a Judgment, what I brought, but it is something that could be a Judgment, and in this place of things that might be that is enough. It cast aside the dark. Although I am struggling, I am burned and I am having trouble remembering what I should be, I am not afraid.

I will find my destiny.

Just as soon as my arm heals.





February 7th, 1889



The time spent recovering has been insufferable.



My city at once is and is not familiar to me. Even my father seems... Well. I never knew him, I suppose, but now I can barely remember why I ever thought my father was important. I spent three hours today, sitting on my balcony, looking East. I did not even realize the time had passed until the Dapper Chap disturbed me, and it took me nearly two minutes of anxious conversation to place his face.

I clearly belong here no more.



I am healed enough. It is time to leave.



February 11th, 1889



We've arrived at the Castle. It feels different. The air feels charged, feels ready. I feel ready. There is something inside me that is tearing at my mind and soul and it burns to be free. Is this what the Campaigner felt like as her disease progressed? It's exhilarating.



Soon, the ritual will start. The Exile is even now marshaling the crew to watch. She says it's important all know what I am about to experience.

It will all be over soon. I shall cut away what I do not need. I shall be one, and I shall claim my Name and then my Song and then my destiny.