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Nillion's Journal ~ Part 3

Stjernedato 45, Vår Måne 11

Le Thalas Citadel, the Skygge Realm, evening

Played for damn fools! In our ferocity to help Lanessa our guards have been down! Cazzouth sits so smugly, I don’t doubt he’s had a part to play in this disgrace! Lanessa was arrested in the night and held on grounds of treason. She is to be picked up tomorrow and taken to the Hall of Judgement. Such fools – [illegible scribbling.]

I took a moment to calm down. As useful as emotions can be in magic, this is not the time for such unabridged behaviors. There is nothing that I, nor the equally as furious Sibyl, can do at this time. Lanessa is being held prisoner by Grand Master Zinul, but thankfully he was not so thorough to have taken her signal ring… She has impressed calm on me intertwined with longing and resignation. An appreciation marred by pure dread.

This has been a lesson for my accounting of events, too, as it has been four long days and I find myself regretting my lack of discipline with the journalling. I do not know what your needs are, distant reader, I can only hope this journal will still help you in some way. While caring for her, Lanessa agreed and strengthened my resolve to speak such things to you but in a more direct way, where originally it was solely my gut feeling. In either case, we now backtrack:

In the Hall of Memory manuscripts, I have found mention of access to memories without restriction to time or space. It is an intrinsic thing- only inherited or randomly appearing but not able to be created, nor the circumstances of occurrence being recreated successfully. It simply occurs, something in the person's mind and soul unlocks along their path. They have also not been able to discern a pattern to occurrences save for the inheritance acquisition. It is most often referred to as “the Sight,” where being able to see memories from people or objects directly is just “scrying.”

The biggest challenge in researching the Sight is that when someone does surface that has it, they disappear within a few days. The elusive Parcaelean Order is suspected. It’s presumed this whole order is comprised of Seers but no one expert has a solid answer to who or what they are, either. In every new case of a Seer appearing, and then promptly disappearing, even their closest loved ones don’t hear or see them ever again. Any attempts that both they and authority make to try and find them fail drastically.

It would seem that you do not simply seek out a member of the Parcaelean order. You can only request an empty room or one of their familiars, no notes on what specifically is a Parcaelean familiar, and hope they show up at your door. It’s also strongly advised to not miss their visit as they do not knock twice. Once I found this bit of information out I ran to Lanessa to wait for her next waking cycle, able to speak to her without the healer. I included Sibyl too, who we both felt might have contributions on the subject. She does strangely know so much while speaking so infrequently. Maybe this is where we messed up… I don’t recall checking for eavesdroppers when Lanessa woke, only my intense relief as the whole ordeal has been so worry-heavy.

Lanessa appeared more fatigued than ever, I do not feel that these forced rests are helping anymore. We had a jug of her favorite juice and some food waiting, a few sweet and soft cinnamon-topped buns, and while she ravenously ate she communicated appreciation about the food way more than the sleep. My dearest… It was time to know. She nodded and we sat on the bed closer to her, her tormented voice could only speak so loudly and her weary mind was slow to process so much. Time ceased to pass properly for our conversation, one that was so monumental but so short.

Lanessa shared with us the contents of her nightmares even though much of it didn’t quite make sense. We were able to discern that she has been a victim- oh… Apologies, she says that isn’t a proper word: She has Sight. As much as the reoccurring memories are relentless and uncontrollable- it is not her own. Nor does she believe it has yet to pass, some familiar faces are so much younger than they are now. One of them she will see soon, in fact, making no sense with that statement. Just in case you are not the only one who happens across this journal, dear reader, I will not disclose her sensitive retelling.

I can, however, loosely summarize; Authority destroying and killing everyone in the city without prompt, warning, or discrimination. It was viewed as justified and highly rewarded, those in charge reaping recognition for their noble deed. Our authority is false and built on blood, bodies, and feathers. This telling brought her so much despair…

Hearing herself voice these things must’ve made them feel more real than they already were… She’s desperate to silence them and stop reliving them. What is worse is how her perspective shifts; Sometimes she views them from the innocent, from the ordered, but also sometimes the guilty… Regardless of the perspective she is thrust into, it is always the same event.

This is the part we agree someone must have overheard, not much else would warrant such drastic measures to keep under wraps. The someone in question who received this information must have felt the information she now carries to be a threat. To be Treason against a vile and mislabeled leadership… Never have I been more called to my path than now. We gently promised to each other when the time is right we will name them and their crimes, and we will assist in delivering true justice. For now… We keep as much as we can to ourselves. Sibyl digresses to play ignorant and wait.

When she finished her telling of the events and went back to resting Sibyl and I voiced our worries about the Parcaelean order. Shortly after voicing such apprehension, the door broke open, pieces flying across her bed chamber and flashing in the moonlight as they stuck into the far wall. By design or miracle, none of us were impaled. Torchlight entered immediately following with intrusive vitality and Grand Master Zinul stood with vicious intention holding the torch. His behaviors took on a new toxic context at this moment. He looked at Lanessa with almost a phobic lust and motioned to two unknown mages accompanying him to arrest her under suspicion of treason, blaspheming, and slander.

We followed as closely behind as allowed, tears flowing without discretion. I think I forgot how big our citadel was, or at least it appeared larger under the circumstances. It took emotional ages to reach the Grand Master’s chambers… The whole way our ruckus dawned more eyes than deemed comfortable. Xalni and Jogniern were genuinely perturbed. In contrast, Cazzouth’s expression was very disturbing; as if he was amused by this, hungry even. Telvi didn’t appear and still hasn’t leading them to be the prime suspect on our list of possible leaks. They are also the most likely to relish watching the results of their information delivery. A few new arrivals also popped up but we have yet to formally meet them to have a possible opinion or even care.

At that thought Lanessa playfully scorned me for such a silly thought, once again dazzling me with her grace. Sibyl assigned some of her duties to those same new students we passed. When she was locked up Lanessa’s signal ring hummed through with accepting patience, of impenetrable surroundings, and that other ways could be explored. I fear writing more that might harm her defense, but Lanessa has encouraged me to take such a risk. I cannot accept things as easily as she has and contest this course of events greatly… Sibyl mirrors Lanessa’s behest in all her matriarchal glory. We will stand by as requested but not idly. Till the morning’s rising star… Yes dearest, even then.

¯ ¯ ¯

Stjernedato 46, Vår Måne 12

Le Thalas Citadel, the Skygge Realm, early

A single white rose.

[The faded impression and correlating ink smudges imply the pressing of a flower between these pages.]

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