Letters Lost in Time - Karl Jacobs

Diary Entry #2

It hurts. Dying hurts.

It's obvious, yes, but I feel like we underestimate it too much. Of course it physically hurts. Of course getting impaled on a sword hurts, of course having the blade twist inside your gut is agonizing. Of course falling to the ground with your life slipping out of you in the form of deep crimson blood is going to hurt at least a little bit. But what hurts more is the emptiness that comes after dying, the darkness and silence that comes after blacking out. The sheer solitude, the nothingness of it... it's terrifying. Next time, I'll have to make sure I won't die. I don't want to go through that every single time, I'd spiral into insanity.

Though, something tells me that's already happening anyway.

Speaking of dying... I really didn't expect the masquerade to go that way. It was, for lack of a better term, a total bloodbath. I don't think I've ever quite seen that amount of death in such close and grisly detail before. Sure, I've been through several wars but I was never made to pause and investigate corpses. There was fighting to do, I didn't have time to burn the image of people's dead bodies in the back of my eyelids. Even if I had, there's nothing that would merit me for doing it. I would already know they died in the crossfire. But for the masquerade... I had to do exactly that.

Drew and James, in particular... Their deaths were the hardest pills to swallow. I don't know why, but I feel like I didn't quite have enough time to process them. Drew died first, and any semblance of grief for his fate was buried by fear as we tried to survive the night. James died near last, and any hint of sorrow for his demise was washed away by suspicion as we tried to pinpoint who the murderer was. I would leave it at that, but I don't get quite the same sinking feeling in my gut as when I think about Lord Sebastian, or Lady Lyaria, or anyone else really.

They're oddly familiar. They remind me too much of Quackity and Sapnap. I feel like I've seen their faces around before, maybe in portraits that had made their way to modern times. I feel like I see their faces whenever I wake up, the first things my eyes see in the morning always seem to be that sweet smile and relaxed expression.

...

I can't dwell too much on them, no matter how much I really want to. There's more important details at hand.

The most damning detail is the presence of the egg. It looks nearly identical to the one Sapnap had shown me just a while back, with its massive crimson shell and the snaking vines of vermilion protruding from it and crawling all over the surfaces in the immediate vicinity. It also seemingly has other similar properties, like it's penchant for mind control and getting into people's heads. When we were there, it had only been a few minutes and yet we were already inclined to start stealing. If that's the extent and power of its influence, then it's rather terrifying. No wonder Sir Billiam and his butler had been so unreasonable, had been plagued with a silent madness. Perhaps I should just generally invest in more holy water, if it's one thing that can keep me safe.

I clearly have to investigate further, but I don't know where to start. The egg isn't the only most pressing matter on my mind right now. There's also the question of my powers, of the messed up future in the City of Mizu, and of the inbetween. I'd have to write separately for the inbetween, it seems like a whole other leviathan I can't quite tackle with just a singular diary entry. There's too many questions and too little answers. There's too many unknown variables, and the ones I do know I still don't fully understand.

Maybe I can't do this alone.

...

No. No, I've been over this. I have to. I can't involve or burden anyone else with this. If there's anything I can do, I should do it. Call it a hero complex, call it selfishness, but I just want to be able to help. I want to be able to say I've contributed, to leave my mark on this fleeting world.

I just want someone to tell me I've done something. I just want someone by my side, please.

I need to start planning things out. I should recognize my priorities, and focus almost entirely on them. I can't spread myself too thin by trying to answer everything at once. Start small, work out the little tangles at the edges and slowly move your way up the tapestry of this messed up universe. Just because my travels are abrupt and unplanned doesn't mean I should be unprepared to deal with them. If anything, because of their inherent unpredictable nature, I should be more careful. But that's for another day. I still need rest for now. I need to take a break to clear my thoughts if I want to eventually make any kind of progress.

Til next time. Remember who you are.

−Karl Jacobs

-

He rushes to close off the last paragraph, trying to stay discreet as the figure on the bed behind him stirs in the hold of slumber. He hadn't been lying when he said he needed rest, but he just couldn't sleep without writing everything down. He couldn't even trust his own memories anymore, with the thread of them running away from him. He needed to record everything almost immediately, and only then would his heart and mind be put to ease. Thankfully, he had always been rather quick to note down important details and before long he was finally finished and hiding the diary in another secret chest he would pick it up from later. It feels like a weight had been lifted off his chest, honestly.

He slips into the bed with as much decorum as his tired brain can muster, but it's futile when the other's eyes blink open to look at him. Thankfully, he's too tired to question it and just opens up his arms for the time traveler to crawl into. He does exactly that, sighing softly as their legs intertwine and his head rests on a muscular bicep. He feels the sheets being pulled up over him and a gentle kiss being pressed to his forehead, and he smiles as he drifts off to dreamland.

Sapnap's warmth had always been so inviting, after all.