Katya's Journal

[Poolson]

[The script of this book is written from one different to Common, but is easily translated by any would-be readers.]

Page 1:

The Fount? (This word is underlined, and circled many times. Question marks litter the page's edges.) A single intense thought. What does it mean to me? To my core, as if it were my own heart. It is in my dreams. It is the name to a blank space in my head.

Ring 238, The Painted Planes. Home.

Belyaeva family. Last survivor?

Cousin Sergei? Spry, good health, practical. Grins and jokes. Hope so. Delicious kvass. Bitter liquors.

Uncle Vasili? Brave, not good. Much practice with the sword. Hard lessons of the sword, I remember them all. The sword is the weakness of the self and failure of words. Thank you for getting me this far.

Father Olezka? Fearless, blood and heart as ice. The Spire was swallowed into the endless night. I do not think you made it out.

Aunt Anastasia? Too old. Too fat. Cigarette lungs. Goodbye, I will remember you. Your kitchen is the place of meditation for me.



Angelique. Danger, to herself, to others. Insatiable desire, addled temper. Needs full support. How to help?

Barter. Maybe. Great sacrifice needed but charity and reward can make her refrain from whimsy or malevolence.

Reason. Maybe.

Confront. No, will isolate. Problems will intensify.

Why did she and Baldassare fight so viciously and yet greet each other with grins?


Rigas. Danger to himself. Has a pain that goes unspoken. Drinks frequently, numbs doubt and fear. Must reconcile his life and choices.

Constant support. Love and patience will help coax these out into the open, and confront them in a way that he can live with.


Artabastes. Danger to others. Silenced the voice of reason a long time ago I think.

Appeasement and humor will blunt his danger to others. Camaraderie is still alive in him.


Mirelle. Ally. In too deep to get out, smart enough to know when battle can be avoided entirely, knows how to menace and soothe instead of turning to the sword. She must survive or there will be much blood without her.

Aeronwy. Ally. Master. Knowledge comes from pain, she suffers much. I will trust her. I must listen closely, she is teaching all the time and leaves the lesson in simple spoken word. The kindness will not be taken for granted.

Dante. Mystery. Good tenure in dispensing justice, sees good in people. Fast wit, schemes instead of letting his hand be forced. Rumors of corruption. Must trust, must not fear.

Fiordelise. Ally. Good heart in a brutal world. Honest soul, can trust her. She must survive or there will be much death for those who cannot help themselves. Dante you lucky dog.

Marigold. Ally. She wears regret and hope as garments. Soberly self-aware of all actions past and present. Willful and driven. Loyal to the hilt.

Asherias. Friendly. Good willed sense of drive, without fear to decide what is to be done. Proactive. Courage as a bull, not always good. Someone of her stock is the future to the White League.

Mekonnen. Friendly. Curious, always, polite, warm smile. Always willing for a challenge. He will do much.

Jamileh. Friendly, potentially dangerous to herself. Inquisitive, even when not directly asking questions. Drinks frequently, seems to hold little regard for survival. Support and compassion will keep her upright. Adoptive mother of Tarek and the late Alejandro. A parent should never be burying her sons, it is sons who should bury their parents.

Cashano. Ally. I can tell he feels lonely, around people that do not speak or think like he does. Strong sense of right and wrong. Council will console his heart and guide him. He needs a bath.

Willow. Ally. I think she is out of her depth. She is a good woman, simple and of hard knocks. Brave.

Rhuk. Friendly. Head is large, he asks many questions. I hope he finds all of the answers. Every muscle, including the one in his head, is used.

Narwen. Friendly. She is lost in this world and to herself. She is far from home. She needs a friend to serve as an anchor. I will try this.

[Poolson]

Page 2:

THE FOUNT? Is The Pilgrim holding it? Is the Dakh'wah The Fount? Is it the heart of Bel Ishun, or the flow of the River Edutu? Is it real, can I find it?

Reality of the Balladeers is beginning to set in. I do not think I want to do this anymore. Ambitions too great, mine are much smaller.

Halim. Mystery. Rambunctious. Firebrand temper. Good heart but easily goes astray. How do I help him?

Confrontation. No. Will simply isolate.

Reward? Maybe.


Aubrey. Mystery. True believer or power broker? Good will is being offered to me, I must accept it.

Ahmet. Mystery. No foundational ideas, strong and unshakeable beliefs. Revolutionary or power-hungry?

Where is the truth to either of them? Where does the idealism end and the reality begins? The human beneath is buried deep.

Argent. Danger to others. He is a wilderman in human clothes. The law of the wasteland has shaped his vision. You cannot take the wasteland out of the man but you can take the man out of the wasteland. What does he want? Does he know? Marigold trusts him to her core. There is a person still inside of him that she sees. Must know Argent better through her. Enjoys Yuan-Ti legs. Ugh.

Emilia. Danger. She is a cat. She enjoys the case and the catch. I do not think the reason matters as much as the sport it provides. Much like Angelique but with an even temperament. Maybe alleviate the risk the same way.

Zina. Ally. The last honest merchant in Ephia's Well. Business soars, her employees live well and she has my trust. Still owe her 11,000. Maybe vacation with her some day to Frostport, where she has the fur trade. What brought her from Il Modo to here?

Isaac. Mystery. Man of few words. Simple and relaxed attitude. Has much to say and little time or ability to. His paintings are the most beautiful thing I have ever seen.

Mae. Mystery. No person is that deadpan and blank. Professional for the Nadiri, I think. I wish I could talk to her more.


Forget the arena. The plan is prepared. I must save strength and energy for the plan. Prepare, prepare, prepare, for the day my luck is chanced.

Where do I go from there? Where do I go from here?

[Poolson]

Page 3:

Life goes on. Get knocked down, get up again. No use crying over what has been.

Magistrate position. Unexpected. Thankful, at least. I must do my best. A mother's child sits in the chair of the accused, remember, always.

Mekonnen, Cashano. I weep for who is lost along the way. I will remember the inquiring nature of Mekonnen, his inability to settle for what it is. I will remember Cashano, who believed in me, in the plan, who believed and loved as strangers, for he too was a stranger, and the family he sought was out there in the dunes, not just in the city.

I think about them too much and some times it hurts. Let's pour it together, brothers.

Angelique is gone. Death will at least satisfy the insatiable. I weep for her. I had only begun to truly figure her out, how to steer her from the needle and the temper.

Rigas is gone. His nightmare is over, but, there was much life left to him yet. We were making good progress. The human within him was very much alive and thrashing for help beneath the ocean of liquor, and all that he regretted, all that he feared, tried its best to pull him down. I must not let someone else suffer like you.


The war continues to rage. I lay in my bed writing in my journal, waiting for the candle's light to fade, and see the shadows dance in the corner where the sword lies. It is like a hand beckoning me to the handle, and let free black glass. The long shade that stands in its shadow nods its head, I feel it in the hairs on my neck. Sleep alone, you grim groom, your begrudging bride has no love of you.

The College of the Lost Hearth closes its doors to me. I feel less somehow. Its grand designs were too much for me but I felt in similar company. I cannot lament its loss, I chose to stand my ground for what I believed in. What I still believe in. The meat grinder will not change so long as men of ambition are as they are, I must learn to work within it.

I wish Aeronwy did not follow after me. She made her own decision but I feel responsible somehow. She knew much of the station and her hard lessons learned. More than the rest of them.

The Fount? [This is circled multiple times and littered with question marks.]

[Poolson]

Page 4:

What is even happening?

A curse that causes these bizarre spasms, and words spoken in tongues?

Crying foul of djinn-and-horror married weaponry, all within a single blade? Do they even listen to the insane paradox they speak of? How do they persist in the face of negative tests?

Maybe Ephia's Well is not the place I was seeking. Maybe Frostport, or Il Modo.

Marco. Where did I go wrong with Marco? Did something steer his hand to carry him to such extremes, did I fail to see the killer in him? Maybe I am simply cursed to the shadows of evil men.

[Poolson]

Page 5:

I find deceivers in righteous vestments and the righteous from deceptive shadows.

When we met, Presmir spoke to me with such feverish belief. I was certain it had consumed him and blinded him to all reason. When Ahmet chose him for Magistrate, I feared that men would be doomed to their deaths on suspicion alone. Yet when laid before one such person, he weighed, he measured and restrained the power bestowed upon him by the Palatial Pyramid. Conscription it was to be, not the certainty of death in the arena.

His willingness to cooperate with the Sisters and the Astronomers certainly keeps me guessing of his true nature, but, I do not see a zealot in him.

Maybe where people are concerned, I am wrong. I am seemingly blind to the righteous and vicious qualities of all, and only too late is the truth revealed. A dangerous flaw to have. How can I help people if I cannot see the root of them? The greatest puzzle every politician, inquisitor and detective has had to sit down and unravel.

The sun feels as if it is soon to set on Ephia's Well. Many crisis about to come to a head, when the war rages on, and the enemy's power nears its zenith and silver titans rise from the ash. Whom does the Sultan fear more, in such times? Qa'im, or Iakmes? The answer will come too late I think.

So what do I do?