This was written for the “The Great Game” Amber campaign at AmberCon.
The story begins with the various grandchildren of Oberon being sent off to hold an outpost against the attacks of the Courts of Chaos. Upon their return, they encounter a strange pattern storm, and when they arrive home, its not the same home they remember, and the question is, where they changed by the storm or was Amber changed?
The whole campaign is heavily based on Castle Falkenstein and other steampunk tropes and presented quite a different take on the traditional Amber.
Arrival
Never had I expected the number of the wounded that I was presented with upon my arrival several hours ago.
This was supposed to have been a minor supply post, but it appears that it was more than minor in the eyes of Chaos, more than had been expected. I don’t understand such things, but perhaps Gérard had known more than he had said when he had asked me to help here, and here I am.
###
Several Days Later
I have been surviving on less than two hours of sleep per night since my arrival and the days and nights have merged into one long waking nightmare of blood. The only way that I can tell that I have slept is that in sleep the waking nightmare does not trouble my mind, but the only reason that I have slept was because the wounded had stopped arriving.
If there is any personal benefit to this war and all of the shedding of blood it has caused, it is that my surgical skills have been tested and expanded beyond my expected limits, but this war has been a terrible teacher.
###
Next Day
At least, I think this is only the next day since I last added to my diary. I have not left the surgery for many, many hours, and even then it was only to carry in more of the wounded from the front lines. The numbers of our wounded here are astounding.
My cousin Tobias has proved to be of great assistance. They say necessity is truly the mother of invention; she has proven to be a terrible mother these past several days. To assist me, Tobias has provided a number of ingenious splints, crutches and artificial limbs that he had made from scavenged materials from some of the enemy catapults.
I must also relate an interesting episode from the previous day.
It took place during one of the infrequent, momentary lulls in the incessant attacks on the camp.
I was suturing Daniel’s leg. It was a long but shallow wound, caused by cannon shot; a long metal fragment was lodged deep in the muscle but otherwise the wound was not serious, merely messy. Normally, such a wound would have been a simple operation, but this time it was a much more difficult job. I had not recently needed to perform surgery on any of the blood of Amber, so I had forgotten how difficult they tended to be as patients.
I could tell he was nervous. It wasn’t the pain so much as the expectation that another attack would be imminent, and the adrenaline was making him react to every suture I made. With each movement, the stitches were becoming more and more difficult to keep straight. I finally became so exasperated that I snapped at him.
“Stop that! Stop … twitching so much!”
He didn’t reply, only glared at me. I regretted my combative tone of voice almost immediately and made an effort to be more professional.
“You could try to relax a little more,” I continued. “The suturing is taking longer only because you cannot keep your leg still.”
“A little something to dull the pain might not hurt,” he replied. “Some brandy, perhaps?”
I snorted derisively. “All of my anesthetics and enchantments have been used for more important uses that a simple leg wound. Nor do I have a gallon of brandy, which is what it would take to dull the pain for one of our stamina, nor would I give it to you, since it makes a more efficient antiseptic.”
“Just kidding …” he said, waving off my attempts to continue my diatribe any further. He accompanied his gesture and remarks with a weary flash of his roguish grin. I tried to continue to glower at him, but his admittedly tired humor was so infectious and his mannerism was such an unconscious or conscious copy of his father’s that I was unable to maintain my anger for long.
I tried to retreat into my most professional manner, and succeed, mostly. “If you really want something for the pain, I can offer you this,” I continued, as I held out a short wooden peg, much chewed, “or …”
“Or?” he replied dubiously.
I leaned over him, opening my eyes wide to meet his gaze. “Or, you can look deep into my eyes …” I continued, my exhaustion letting my voice trail off suggestively with more sly, sultry amusement than is usually my wont.
He didn’t refuse, but he did look away, either in outright refusal or simply disgust. I wasn’t surprised. Amberites, including myself, were notorious for refusing to surrender any level of personal control, even for a … simple application of medical mesmerism. I could have forced the issue without asking his permission, using one of the more useful skills that I had learned from observing Mother, but I had also learned from past experience that it only caused as many problems in the future as it solved in the present.
“Just get on with it,” he said gruffly.
At that moment, we were interrupted by the fortuitous entrance of Tobias, carrying another load of wooden splints and crutches.
“Tobias, I have a problem here; could you give me a hand?”
He carefully set down his load and then walked slowly over to the operating table. “What do you need?”
“I need to immobilize the leg here while I’m suturing it.”
He hummed quietly as he examined the situation from several different angles with his characteristic air of detachment. He stroked his jaw for a long moment, then suddenly smiled to me and nodded.
For Tobias, it was obviously a simple exercise of the proper application of force. His hands were as unmoving as Kolvir, and therefore, so was Daniel’s leg. Without further interruptions on Daniel’s part, I was able to finish suturing his wound within five minutes, and it just took a minute more to wrap a fresh bandage around his leg.
His work finished, I politely thanked Tobias for his assistance before he left, a sentiment that was more enthusiastically shared by Daniel. As he left, I could almost see the wheels and gears of Tobias’ mental processes operating; within the hour he’ll have a design roughed out to perform the same function.
I turned my attention back to Daniel. He had swung himself into a sitting position as he felt the bandage. “Do you believe in souvenirs?” I said, tossing him the sliver of metal that I had removed from his leg. He picked it out of mid-air, turned it over in his hand for a few moments, and said “No.” He tossed the sliver into the disposal bin that overflowed with a number of similarly bloody objects
At that moment, one of the sentries yelled out that the enemy had been sighted. Daniel leapt from the table and ran out of the surgery, pausing only a moment to grab his blade from beside the door. I sighed and checked over the empty beds and began gathering more bandages.
After the Shadowstorm
The Shadowstorm passed over the outpost two hours ago. Most of the able-bodied within the protected area have survived the passage, while all but a few of the wounded did not survive. It wounds me to see the number of soldiers of Amber that had been entrusted in my care that I could not save.
After the storm, the camp commander contacted our superiors back in Amber. Our orders were to return with all due haste, using the two ships we have remaining. The next several hours will be spent in loading the living and what supplies we can carry.
I have let it be known, that, once we set sail, I am not to be disturbed for anything less than severe injury or illness. Seasickness would not to be considered a severe illness, no matter how severe it seemed to the afflicted party.
###
Three days out
We have spent the last three days at full sail. At dinner earlier this evening, Malachi told us that it would be just one more day until we get to Amber.
I spent most of these three days asleep, recovering my strength. At the same time, I tried to expunge the nightmare memories of the blood and the dying from my mind. I am no longer so exhausted that I do not notice my dreams, so the nightmare that I had lived was now occupying my dreams. I confess to having to prescribe a strong sedative for myself in order to sleep that first night; I fared better the following nights, once I was strong enough to take command of my dreams.
It is as if I had to lance a boil in my unconscious; I was finally able to convince myself that I could not be held accountable for all of the deaths among the wounded, let alone in the entire camp. The deaths caused by the passing of the Shadowstorm were the most difficult to bear, all of those soldiers of Amber that had not been well enough to withstand its passing.
###
Amber
I am dictating this as I await the results of the inquiry.
I do not know what has happened to us, except that we have not returned to Amber, or at least, to the Amber we remember. Every memory I possess tells me that this must be a Shadow of Amber, yet the others who are attuned to the Pattern tell us that this is indeed our home. But even they did not believe it was home, not at first.
We sailed into Amber’s waters several hours ago. The changes started occurring then.
The first changes we noticed were that Tobias and I had physically changed.
Tobias had become much shorter and stockier, and developed a long beard. For all intents and purposes, Tobias had become a dwarf.
Although I do possess shapeshifting abilities, I did not realize at that time that I, too, had changed, until someone else pointed that fact out to me. My image in the mirror had become taller and more graceful, with an elegant set of pointed ears and entrancing emerald eyes. Without my realizing it, I had become one of the High Fae. It was as though I had danced the Circle for a forbidden fourth time without my realizing it.
Then, when we arrived at the Port, I noticed a number of changes in the Castle, the town, and even the ships in the harbor. I eventually saw that it also affected our vessels.
I saw curious individuals walking the streets of the city. I saw the pennants of the royals in residence flying in the breeze above the Castle, which, strangely enough, included the late Eric and the traitor Brand, but not my mother’s. I saw cannons on the ramparts of the castle, steam engine-driven mobiles on the streets of the city, and steam-driven, cannon-laden ships in the harbor, especially the ship named “Grand Adventure” which was flying Caine’s colors and was rapidly approaching our own.
After Caine came aboard, he quickly discovered our predicament. Instead of the royal reception at the docks, we members of the Family and the ship’s crew and soldiers were taken to a dockside warehouse, where an informal inquiry was to be held. Caine found our stories, matching from commander to common soldier, almost impossible to believe. The only person who could answer this riddle, Caine said, was Dworkin.
It was a most painful confrontation with Dworkin: I could not have imagined him as he appeared, for he also appeared as one of the highest Fae, even more so than myself, and was not only the father of Oberon, our grandfather, but the father of my own father.
I could never have imagined the sympathetic tones from him. He had heard our stories of another Amber and was just as resolute in his belief in this Amber. He argued that we had been imprinted with a Shadow of Amber during the Shadowstorm. I knew that could not be the cause, because my path of power went was different from the Pattern, that my memories of it could not have been affected by being so imprinted.
Thankfully, they were not minded to try to correct our memories, as our Family as we remembered them might have been tempted to do.
It was also during the inquiry that I discovered a very disturbing facet of my self.
In a moment of preoccupation and exasperation, I found myself leaning against a wooden wall. Except that I was not leaning; my arm had passed through the wall as if it were no more substantial than air. Or it was I that had become so insubstantial. Caine apparently did not notice. I quickly pulled my arm back, then touched the wood, not knowing whether to feel relieved or concerned by its solidity under my touch.
That led me to experiment further. Out in the common area I reached for the powers of sorcery I possess and levitated a cup from the table. My most uncomfortable surprise was that magick seemed easier here than I had known.
###
In the Anarchists Warren
While we were waiting for the results of the inquiry, Daniel’s father Random led an attack on the warehouse where we had been staying. An explosive device (another change!) blasted a hole in the wall, and Random grabbed his son and quickly departed.
In the guise of one of the anarchists, I followed Daniel and his father into their hiding place. I do not know whether it was the boredom and inactivity of the inquest, the need for information, or the desire to help Daniel that led me to this act.
I found it easy to shift my shape into the form of one of the anarchists. Later, by shifting myself into someone who appeared to belong, I was able to overhear Daniel and Random’s conversation. I will not repeat it here, for that was intended for their ears alone.
Daniel was finally able to convince his father to allow Daniel and myself to leave.
Before the Ball
My maids were quite shocked at my choice of dress for the ball, but I was resolute.
Most of the designs were quite obviously out of fashion, so they said, and, in my opinion, far too confirming or impractical. Nothing appealed to me until I noticed something in the back of the closet.
It was a simple Grecian gown of pale green Faerie silk, interwoven with tiny golden threads. The bottom half swirled around my waist, while the top flowed over my left shoulder, leaving my right shoulder bare, and trailed behind me to briefly touch the floor. It came with matching gloves that stretched above my elbows and a golden, jewel-encrusted bodice that fitted smugly about my waist. I loved it the first time I saw it. Later, my maids would remind me that it was the gown I wore when I was presented to court.
Genevieve recommended braiding my long copper hair into three braids, interweaving them with a bright golden chain, then looping the arrangement around my head in the unsubtle recognition of my royal lineage. It also emphasized my Fae appearance, which I had some qualms about.
Electra held out my jewelry box, and indicated a large golden collar with brilliant ruby settings, with matching earrings and a large pendant plate dominated by a brilliant carnelian in a cabochon cut. I recognized it as the jewelry worn in the portrait in the parlor. I shook my head to refuse the selection. Instead, I picked through the box to find a long emerald pendant on a golden chain, with matching earrings and bracelet. I dangled the emerald before Electra’s eyes for a moment, then slipped on my selections. And, of course, I wrapped my charm bracelet about the glove on my right wrist.
###
At the Ball
I arrived at the Ball and was announced with the traditional fanfare and titles that was appropriate to my station within this Amber: as the daughter of Princess Fiona, and apparently now the daughter of a Prince as well, I had been granted the title of Duchess, though I rarely used it, but the title of Lady of Hollybrooke Manor was unfamiliar to me.
Dworkin met me when I arrived, and asked me to accompany him to the library. I was disconcerted when he blithely walked through the solid wall to arrive at his destination, when this manner of travel was not instinctual.
He reiterated his pleas for me to dance the Circle, to regain the memories he believed I had lost. I reiterated my own desires to maintain myself as I was.
I inquired of him about the abilities and powers of my Fae form, mindful of one of my mother’s strictures that I had taken to heart: that such Powers unlearned and undisciplined were a danger to their possessor as well as to those around them. Having assumed this Fae seeming, I must now come to terms with its inherent powers, both known and yet to be known, but he refused me with a small display of sadness. If this had been the Amber of my memories, I believe that he would have turned my request into an inducement to dance the Circle, yet he did not. Ultimately, I must discover these powers on my own and in my own way.
Finally, we remained at the same impasse we started at, and I took my leave of him. As if to make my point, I used the door to leave the library.
###
Meeting Brand
When I had seen the grand parade and production that accompanied Mother’s arrival, I took refuge in the library. It was there that I discovered my uncle Brand, glancing through the shelves. Looking at him, I forced myself to remember that this was not the Brand whom I was told had tried to murder Benedict and Martin and tried to set himself as ruler of a new Pattern. Even then, I somehow could not bring myself to trust him. Perhaps, on retrospect, because of my Fae nature or my knowledge of the true Amber, I was seeing something in him that was invisible to the others.
He was aware of the situation in general, even though he asked me to explain it to him in greater detail. He was especially interested in the predicament in which I found myself, caught between the mortal world and the world of the Fae.
When I was finished my explanation, he seemed almost pleased at my discomfort. It was not the reaction that I would have expected, given the sympathy that I had received from my other relatives.
Truth to be told, seeing his reaction, I fled the library and Brand’s presence; I was so disconcerted that I walked through the wall of the library to escape him. I hurried to Dworkin to tell him of my encounter.
Dworkin’s Dilemma
The news I carried was very disturbing to Dworkin. He said that it tended to confirm some of his suspicions, that Brand was not merely the unwitting tool of the Adversary, but the Adversary reborn into mortal flesh. That, he said, would explain many things.
We gathered together the ones who remembered both pasts. I fortunately intercepted Daniel before he did something rash, which was quite apparent from his bearing.
Out on the balcony, Dworkin told us of his suspicion that Brand was in fact the Adversary, born in mortal flesh and thereby able to avoid the limitations of the Compact.
Then, from where, I cannot say, Dworkin materialized an arrow with a tip of cold iron. Even from across the balcony I could feel its awful power: I cannot say how he could even hold it, let alone be that close to it.
Our plans were quickly made. Daniel would challenge Brand, for that was the rash act he was preparing to do before he knew of Dworkin’s suspicions. Miranda would take the arrow from Dworkin, and said that she would not take any chances and ask her father to fire it. The others would accompany Daniel and help as they could.
For my part, I would accompany Dworkin to the Circle. There I would dance and lend my power to his in an effort to keep the Adversary from fleeing. I also knew that this would bind me to this realm, but it was a sacrifice that I was willing to make.
###
In Faerie
I danced. I Danced.
With my fellow Fae, we danced in the Circle. We poured our power into Dworkin, so that he would contain the Adversary. We could not see what transpired in Amber, only that Dworkin’s plan was successful. What truly happened there I have learned from witnesses later.
When the arrow pierced the Adversary, he disappeared from the mortal plane, to appear in the center of the Circle. He appeared as his accustomed form of the Horned Hunter, and, with deathly menace cruelly evident in his gaze, he stalked toward where I crouched, holding Dworkin’s form.
I attempted to hold his gaze with my own, to mesmerize and entrance him, even for just a moment, to give Dworkin that much more time to recover, but his rage was such that he was uncontrollable. Only the Compact kept him from destroying all of the Fae present, myself and Dworkin included. Instead, he vanished in a cloud of darkness.
Aftermath
Dworkin will recover. He must recover. I poured myself into him, wrapped my will about him to keep him from dying as only the Fae can die. I would not let him die, I will not let him die.
Myself, I will not recover. By Dancing the Circle, this Amber has become the one true Amber to me. By this act, I have accepted my heritage as one of the High Fae and of this Amber. The powers and mysteries of the true-born Fae, the memories and skills of a lifetime of living in this Amber, are now mine. I do confess to a certain vanity that leads me to value the natural appearance of the form I have now. I also find the abilities of the true Fae more appealing than what was granted a mortal by dancing the Circle.
But yet I still remember my other life, the other Amber I had known and in part rejected, the family I had known and loved and hated, the mother I hated and loved and wanted to become, the infinity of Shadows that were ultimately my heritage.
I cannot tell which I want more.
