Marked By Frost

Marked By Frost

23rd of Great Frost, 2552

I draw a signet in the frost that develops on my bowl. I pretend that my superstition will carry me to Boein more often than not lately. Imagining what might have helped those keep their sanity before the envelopment of Für Rime. Would they need to journal? I hardly think that the problems of old could not simply be solved by a bath in the sunlight. I find myself losing focus more and more. I sometimes wish I could go back under, heaters do nothing on the surface and my meals freeze over before I can return from feeding Antoin. So I draw the signet that once kept the memory of my mother alive. No hunger grows stronger than that for the sight of my jewellery box. To hold it in my hands. It is perhaps the only thing that allowed me to be with her. I’m compelled to believe that I am chasing an honorable dream but the reward is not so. Not yet. My fixation on the reward compels me to wonder if my travels have turned me into a hedonist, perhaps I was always this way. What do I really want the box for I wonder? Is it worth all of this? I need to buy batteries. My light is beginning to flicker and I do not have many left. Tonight the light flickers on the signet and I rest, but cannot sleep. I hope I can find a safe community tomorrow.

25th of Great Frost, 2552

The world continually discourages me from continuing this venture, yet to turn around and head home would be a feat greater than finishing my journey. It may have taken me an extra day but I spent it listening and reflecting on the tape I received from a traveling arms merchant. “Frank Sinatra: Come Fly with Me” it is called. An old-timey relic. He told me that he had seen a heart-shaped locket. That it caused him to overheat and that when he tried to wear it when traveling with its owner the sound and heat that emitted from it was unbearable. I sense the direction he points me toward is true and that my locket is near. I begin to wonder if this is why the locket was taken when Boein left for the surface and why I could never tell the villagers underground about it. The walls here do bring comfort. Inside this monolithic structure the inhabitants call “Mallsanctuary”. It was worth the extra day's travel. From what I’m told it is something like the market tunnels we had when I was under. Next door the habitants salvage all types of metal with which they fortify their homes within this place. Even here it is not safe from bandits; I had a moment of fear when a cart being carried by a boar housed 3 crazed women who attempted to capture me. I was not willing to go with them, perhaps ending my journey so they attempted force and I was lucky that my EMP caused their bios to malfunction. Of course, what happened after I care not to mention in detail. Reflecting on the lives I’ve taken is painful, but I will say, it is near impossible to tell who is fully organic anymore. I feel as though I must have fallen into psychosis because their cart appeared to have my signet burned into its sides. How puzzlesome. I am nearing the end of this journey. It is a strange nostalgia to look back on the distance I have travelled, the names given to these places by their people. So different to the alphanumeric codes I grew up around. I might even give myself an old timer's name. I forget that even Boein was once legally named AD2332. Everyone called him Doc. Of course, I called him Dad. Tonight I am reminded of my stay with the people that gave Boein his overworld name. “Iron Monks' they called themselves. I am so fascinated by their culture; their tools. How they made metal flow like cloth. How they remained so untouched from the threat of force on their mountainside village. Exposed. Every second step would have a piece of metal flooring slip from under you and fall, echoing for what seemed like forever; yet they moved so nimbly; there were no heaters, barely any food. Only their library, which I was not allowed passage through. They did give me a box however; they told me not to open it until I was at my journey’s end; they called it “Puerorum”. I can’t even figure out how it opens. I ran into Shahdo in this place who I suspect has been following me through this arctic metallic hell. I do wonder for what purpose he follows me, or if it is true coincidence that we have crossed paths almost 25 times across my 2 year journey. Is it possible that he seeks Boein too?

45th of Great Frost, 2552

The streets here are frozen over, I believe water from the heaters is melting and finding itself freezing on the ground. The air is stale with smoke and fumes from cigarettes and leaking gas. A brilliant pattern presents itself on many of the shop walls as gas seeps through the cracks. I have spent more time than I expected in this place as I considered it surprisingly homely until I saw a child lay dead on the grounds of the scrapyard. This is my sign to press forth. I have laboured by their generators and their boar farms for a few days and have earnt enough provisions to get me across the bridge. I told a local that my plan was to cross and she refused to trade with me any further. I was told I would bring misfortune and a terrible plague come the 1st of First Rime at midnight tonight. They said I was the Bestias Nix but refused to tell me what that meant. Puerorum began to shine and emit a sound so sharp my head began to ache. Shahdo must’ve witnessed this and carried me to the bedrolls outside their casino. I awoke to him staring at me. He had saved the box and passed it back to me. Present moment; he watches passersby and I write. I etched my signet into Puerorum and it began to heat, for a moment it was so hot I could not hold it. I’ve pleaded with Shahdo to explain the nature of this artifact to me but he just stares up at the sky. I am beginning to susp

2nd of First Rime, 2553

They came from nowhere. From hell. This surface is hell. Why our ancestors have chosen a nuclear winter for us I cannot say. I cannot justify. Women and children torn from each other, and torn from themselves. I learnt last night what the Bestias Nix are. A savage, disgusting and horrifying race of codependent creatures. No bandit or mercenary could strike this pain and fear on another man. These are not humans. They are monsters. Monsters and their pet wolves. I hear a huge roar every time I close my eyes and I can see them jumping in from the roof. Why didn’t Shahdo warn me? He just stared. The Bestias Nix razed Mallsanctuary. They killed people who offered me peaceful solace. The Bestias Nix lay dormant on the opposite end of the bridge I now sleep at the foot of. The observatory fixes a bright light on me anytime Puerorum is uncovered. If I do not cross; it is because they have taken me. Puerorum has given me away to these creatures. Who knows, perhaps through torture and malicion I will become one of them. Shahdo sits above me in the distance. On the beams of the bridge. I cannot call him because I do not wish to draw any attention from outsiders, mercenaries, cannibals and Bestias Nix alike. I have ventured through this hellish land of snow and sin. I wonder how long I’ve been wandering. Months sometimes feel like days and vice versa. I only hope I reach my purpose that lies at the end. Tomorrow I will set foot on the bridge. The sounds of “Come Fly with Me” nurse me to sleep tonight. If I am to sleep at all.

Sunlight shines through a glass shell of hundreds of layers, in a repurposed observatory, museum-goers are left in awe, some in horror as the projected images slowly fade away. The instrumental “Come Fly with Me” begins to play.

An AI speaks.

“What you have just witnessed is the first three pages of the final journal said to be scribed by Magnus Calor, considered by historians to be a demigod; she was given the name which roughly translates ‘Great Heat’. Today we mark the Centennium when on these very grounds Magnus Calor ended the Fur Rime and brought on the age of Lux Prosperabantur; Prosperous Sunlight”

Excerpts from the journal of Shahdo explain what went on at the end of the bridge. Magnus Calor awoke to a blizzard, leaving a great many of her worldly possessions behind as she moved forward with a gun fashioned from plumbing and electrical equipment, some makeshift nail bombs, and a poisonous gas dispenser for which she had equipped a nullifying mask. The headwind slowed her as she ventured through the white screen and across the bridge. Sightless, hiding amongst the wreckage of cars from the sounds of the Bestias Nix surveying their surroundings. Shahdo knew that Puerorum is what had kept her safe thus far. Puerorum is what deterred Bestias Nix and allowed her to escape Mallsanctuary unscathed. Whether she knew it or not, those who mutated to adapt to the conditions of Fur Rime were incapacitated by the intrinsic nature of Puerorum and it’s signet. Upon reaching the gate of the observatory, Magnus was ambushed by the Bestias Nix. She scrambled underneath the legs of these giant beasts as they pounced, and their riders shot frozen arrows. Puerorum was uncovered and airborne momentarily before Magnus caught it, slamming it into the ground. A wave of light and unknown force pushed the Bestias back continually. They fought to reach Magnus, as a light so bright shone through their skin, revealing their skeletons, and eventually crumbling those who continued trying to fight it. The Bestias who ran from it now live in captivity, hunted for game. Shahdo lost sight of Magnus as she ran into the ground floor of the observatory. Silence and stillness swept the lands surrounding the bridge. Neither a wave nor a wind crashed onto the debris that resided around them. The observatory was dilapidated, but for a moment it seemed as though a glossy finish was hidden underneath. Magnus was seen again, only for a few moments, in an agonising pain. With the locket around her neck and Puerorum below her the signet lit up the sky like an aurora. She screamed as the stars above and the rubble below all shook. The glow from her mouth seemed as though it came from her screams. The glow leaked across her whole body, so bright that Shahdo could not close his eyes to escape it. A luminescence of celestial measure was shot upon the snow, as Magnus herself was cast into the sky, while her locket now known as “Puerorum Solis” ' and Puroerum itself lay dormant below the very observatory. Locked away to time itself. Do we owe our pleasures to the objects themselves or the spirits of those who carried them for us? Those underground may never know the omnipresence of Magnus’ self sacrifice. Some will never choose to come up.

“Weather-wise it’s such a lovely day” sings an observatory guard, as he checks on Puerorum Solis and its container.

‘Winter Wonderland’ by Frank Sinatra begins to play on the museum’s PA system.

Puerorum Solis is gone.