23rd of August, 1839
I was unsure as to what I should put for the date in this entry. This world seems not to have the day and night that I have grown accustomed to. It leaves me to wonder whether or not this is Heaven. But with the crimes I have committed, and the things I have done… It's impossible for God to have allowed me entry into His haven.
With that, the date has been guessed. I'm sure I slept over an unnatural period of time after the tribulations that came along with Brennenburg, but if I were to include the abundance of times I awoke due to the nightmares, I find it safe to assume it was a proper night in total. I took the drink on the 19th of August, and have suffered through four periods of notable sleep. That leaves me on the 23rd. Perhaps one day, I'll lose the need to even record the date. Or, easier still, I'll just lose track of it.
The nightmares, whilst still haunting my sleep, have been considerably tamer during the time I've been here. Instead of waking up screaming in terror, I'm affected only by a pick up in my heart rate, or a cold sweat. I'm curious as to how I'll wake up from them in the future. I've only been here for a short time, after all. Have the nightmares been warded off by my escape from the Shadow? I can only assume so. Or perhaps, dying and being resurrected just does that to a man.
I wasn't sure what to think when I heard Agrippa's voice echo through my mind that night after I threw his head through the portal. If it weren't for his accent I would have believed I was speaking to God himself. What other man would ever be forgiving enough to try and save me- to give me another chance? Perhaps helping Agrippa through the gate was my own bittersweet redemption. Maybe that's the reason I've found myself still in my flesh.
When Agrippa and I made it here, he was no longer a severed head. He had retrieved his body as easily as he had lost it, it would seem. But the husk that his body had once become was back to being a proper figure. He had earned his muscles back, as well as his weight. It all makes me feel like I'm not truly in a real world.
Agrippa's knowledge of this world can only lead me to believe that he's been here before. But I also feel a strange connection to this place. It's not unlike the visions I had so many months ago while I was in Algeria. The staircases and geometry I described in the entry from April, when I first laid my hands on the orb. The visions I saw through it can only be described as impossible. Because that's what this world is. Absolutely impossible. Even the place I am staying is accessed by walking upside down- as if magnets were in the bottom of my boots- up the stairs. However, I've only ascended them once. It's all too strange for me to take in so quickly. There seems to be nothing that could ever convince me that when I venture outside again, things will be the same as they were when I last left them.
I feel like this world, despite its abnormalities, should be treated as my sanctuary. I feel as though I should be thankful that I'm here. I was allowed to come here despite what I have done. I should have died. I was killed by the Shadow. But Agrippa and his pupil, Weyer, saved me. I didn't deserve to be saved, thus I should be thankful that I was. But after everything I've just experienced, I don't care if I die. If, in truth, this world is what waits after death, I will withstand it. Anything to be away from Brennenburg. To be away from the memory of all Alexander has done to me. Not that I haven't achieved a reputable revenge. Alexander is dead.
When I think about Alexander's death, I feel happiness, and relief. The weight of his existence, knowing his true intentions, and bearing the burden of stopping him, has been lifted from my shoulders. I no longer bear this cross, and for that I am thankful. But is taking comfort in a man's death just more proof that I am truly evil? Perhaps the greater question is... is any human not? Is man-kind simply inherently evil? And if it is... Does that mean I have no reason to feel this guilt for the things I've done? Or is that my guilt simply... Playing tricks on me to force me to forget? I should forget. Just like I did before.
Agrippa asked me last night, before I retired to the room he provided for me, if I wanted to join Weyer in his studies and take on the role of being Agrippa's pupil. I should say yes. Not only would it help me learn more about this world that I may be spending forever in, but it'll also offer a distraction. I'm sure there isn't any practical things to learn here, like Physics or Chemistry, but there may be something else and other worldly that this place has to offer.
Maybe, if I'm lucky, my studies here will bring me to a way of getting back home. As I give the notion more consideration, I find that home ceases to be as fine a prospect as I had originally thought. I can't help but fear the idea of purposely searching for a way back. What if I get so desperate to return that I go to the same lengths Alexander did? What if I lose my morality and view only my own desires? Would I put Hazel before the people here? Would I put Mayfair before this city? I can't bring myself to trust anything within me anymore. At least not yet. Perhaps I'll only worry about getting home if I come across it unintentionally. Until that day comes, should it ever come, I will focus solely on learning of this place.
I suppose that means I've internally already accepted Agrippa's offer.
I don't see any reason not to accept the offer, really. It gives me something to focus on while I'm here, and I don't believe I would have any trouble working closely with Weyer. I only met him briefly, when we first passed through the gate. I was too exhausted and delirious at that time to take much note of him. But I'm sure we'll get to know each other in time. I'll get to know him, and everything else about this place. All in time.
It's as though I'm a newborn baby: dropped into this dimension without a penny- or reputation- to my name. I could forget the past and become the Daniel I once was. Begin from scratch and start a new man. I could do that. I should... and I shall. I'll never lose my memories as I did before, but I will leave them behind in Brennenburg. I'll start anew here, as Agrippa's pupil.
If ever I am faced with my world again, I will face my fate and accept my punishment. But until then... It will all be forgotten. My own, bitter, self-induced amnesia.
Tonight will be my last night falling asleep as Daniel of Mayfair. When I wake up, I'll be the new man I crave to be. And he shall be Agrippa's student. He will be the man calling the shots. And he will lead me into my new life.