A Brown Leather Bound Journal with soft Handprint Scorch Marks.

[CrimsonMedicine]

Nisah 17th, IY 7789

I walked around late last night, thinking, pondering, and planning. Got brought into a group to take down some spiders in some nearby caves. I've never been one who likes Spiders. I find them terrifying, way too many legs, and way too many eyes. Plus the way they just...skitter around is nightmarish on its own.

I remember a while back a member of Air and Shadow manifested in the den of spiders. Saying how Kick'shazha. Khik'shashy. Khiq'shasha, or whatever its name is, was one of their servants. That all the spiders were spies for that Court, and that they were watching. Just makes spiders even more nightmarish.

Eugh. Spiders...

---

I got to meet another new person to the Well, though they may not be that new, but they were new to me. Jan. He's an interesting sort, wields a sword though he was once a lumberjack. Came from one of the far off rings. It reminds me I know so little of these 'rings'. It feels odd to think that I was here, in this one over five millennia ago. Just sleeping as people went about their lives, running from ring to ring, trying to survive, only for me to awaken now.

Either way, I'm getting off-topic. Jan seems like a nice guy.

---

Baelerie came to talk to me today, it's come up a few times over the course of the day about my 'divine spark'. She said some great and wise words that I needed to hear. She believes in me, as do many others I suspect.

"I have faith in you. - Faith is a funny thing, you know? Sometimes it means taking a step even when you can't see the stairs. - You got plenty of friends that want to see you succeed, and I think maybe the most important one of all wants you to succeed too." - Baelerie Buletta.

I guess that's why they sometimes call it a leap of faith. Her words give me strength. I'm going to be victorious. I have to be.

---

It was nice to do board work again with the Duunthall. It feels like it has been so long since we were able to get together and do some work. I'll remember this day and cherish the memory fondly. On the cold nights, our laughter of victory will keep me warm.

---

[Grenth Flamebringer's talent to Perform is Average.]

[An average drawing of a dwarven figure standing slightly in front of a taller humanoid figure. The dwarf has a new helmet in contrast to the other drawings, it is more bucket-like than the previous one, his hands clasped somewhat timidly in front of himself, yet his posture is clearly comfortable thanks to the taller humanoid. The figure behind rests a hand upon the Dwarfs shoulder, features obscured by the shadows of an Agasian helmet, standing confidently and gladiator-esque. The cloak pinned over the black and white armour is lit aflame in a brilliant blaze of orange and red hues.]

He is with me. He is watching. I'm going to make the Warrior proud.

Flame preserve me.

[CrimsonMedicine]

Nisah 18th, IY 7789

I sit here in the bunks, staring at the wall. The crates of the dead Duunthall have been removed for a long time. Durgin made sure of that, and I thank him for it. It wasn't good to see the haunting images of their names staring at me. I swear I could hear their spirits crying out to me from across the Edutu.

Ulfgrim snores beside me, his hair is surprisingly so soft, and Durgin's mumbling about orcs above me. Something about the Ear-Seekers Clan. Haldar was here earlier humming a song before heading to Zina's. I think Baelerie fell asleep in the bushes outside the Hall. It is a brief moment of peace here in the Hall. I've heard that there is always a calm before the storm, this must be it.

Meanwhile, I feel like I can't sleep. Too many scenarios are running around in my mind.

What do I need to do? Will I do it wrong? What if this is the wrong place? What if it doesn't show?

I can't think of these questions now though, I have to be confident. I have no more room or time to doubt. He will be watching. Once I sleep, the day will be full of challenges. It's probably among the hardest ones I've ever done. I must stand and fight for my blessings. For the gift of warm flames and war prayers to be returned to me from Agaslakku. A test of my faith. Blind. Daunting. Frightening.

Here's the plan:

[Various written plans are scratched out, and a few images of battle are also scratched out. The one below seems to have made it through the gauntlet of ideas.]

I'm going to try to keep it simple;

Demand my spark to be returned along with my helmet. They are gifts from Agaslakku.

If not, then I will try throwing healing water at the being. "Each wound you heal is a thousand cuts." It said that once, wonder if it's a hint? A weakness?

If that doesn't work, with the strength of my allies, I will mend my friends wounds as we war against this being.

Even more simple; Demand, Heal, War.

---

I should try to get some rest now.

Hear me, Warrior. Hear me, Agaslakku.

I promise to make you proud.

What is broken will be reforged.

Flame preserve me.

[CrimsonMedicine]

Nisah 19th, IY 7789

I am reforged. Whole. Connected to Agaslakku's warmth.

I sit under the night sky, near the graves that I have placed for the Agasians. As the night winds down, I can write my thoughts again.

I can feel the gentle flame dancing and burning again in my heart. My legs don't burn as badly, and the shaking has slowed. One thing is for sure, His flames inside of me have grown back stronger than they have ever been before.

---

I called forth for aid, for those who would stand beside me, and many rallied. More so than I would have thought possible came to me, to help me reclaim my spark. They heeded my words as I knelt before this unknown thing. The test of Agaslakku. The chalice of elemental warm flames in front of me. I mended the broken wounds between us with the most ancient of waters. Doing so...caused the towering six-armed shadow to disappear, or explode is perhaps a better description.

My plan worked, demand, heal, war.

In its place was me. Or rather, What I could be should I walk forward, forwards into the flame. So I did, I walked...and many followed again, to what could have been certain death. That is why, before we embarked upon our journey I asked those who would walk with me one question:

"Will you place your faith in me?"

And they did. It was beautiful to see such love, such support, such trust be placed in me. The path forward was a gauntlet, a trial, I was able to reclaim the Golden Galea of the Proud. I can sleep comfortably again with it hiding my visage from the world. It is a symbol, a symbol of the Warrior. With my spark restored, We stood bravely against the tides of Orc'ah and Sibilant. Rallying to a hill we fought bravely upon for a time, but the tides did not cease. Sister Amélie being a guide through the way out of the never-ending wars.

Though, whilst we were in there. People were surprised at some of the tactics I chose. To hide, to skulk. These may not be the tried and true methods of the Warrior, but they are effective stratagems nonetheless. They kept us alive, and in that lies victory. We carved our path around the fields, making it to the Temple, beyond it a path lie out. And so we made our escape. Carrying the wounded. Returning to the War-Camp.

To victory. To you.

---

[Grenth Flamebringer's Talent to Perform is Average.]

[An average quality drawing with what seems to be a lot of painstaking detail placed into it. It is now of two figures, one dwarf, and one humanoid, who are both wearing Agasian helmets. The cloak of the humanoid is ablaze in a beautiful arc of oranges and reds. The humanoid has its arms wrapped around the dwarf in an embrace, the faintest hints of a smile appear through the shadows cast on this humanoid's face. The dwarf clings tightly to the humanoid, clearly comforted by his presence. Like lovers who haven't seen each other for a time, finally reunited once more.]

---

I will continue now. Forged again, I will lift those who need a warm word. I will heal those who are hurt. I will bring warmth to those cold.

It is good to love and to be loved back again. To you, Agaslakku. To be seen, to be known, to be trusted.

To those that have stood with me, to those that still do, to those that yet will.

I will try to find some rest. Tomorrow is a new day, and with it comes new challenges. The War still wages, and I will be there. To stand with my friends, to do what I can to lift them through it. Together, we have found the strength.

"Not all battles is won by force alone." - The Warrior, the Protector, the Murderer.

Something worth heeding for the fights to come.

Flame preserve me.

[CrimsonMedicine]

Nisah 20th, IY 7789

I finally was able to find some sleep, though I might have slept in a bit too much. I feel great, warm, but not hot. My legs no longer hurt, they shake just as much as they usually do, and I can feel the Warrior's hands upon my shoulders. I did, however, have one of the most beautiful dreams I have ever had in my time amidst the Sands.

The meadow stretched endlessly, a sea of crimson flowers glowing faintly, their warmth palpable beneath my fingers. The air was rich with the scent of earth and the faint aroma of smoldering iron, while a stream murmured. It helped weave life into the dream.

At the center stood a figure, tall and still, clad in gleaming Agasian armor adorned with flame and bronze. Just like how I draw him, but probably much better. His cape billowed behind him, aflame with golden fire that didn't burn but radiated warmth. The flowers closest to him deepened into molten scarlet, leaning toward his light.

As I approached, his presence was undeniable. Somehow commanding yet reassuring, like a protective hand on my shoulder. His face was obscured by the fire's glow, but I felt his gaze, seeing through me without judgment. The air hummed with his power, I swear I could feel it on my skin. His flames.

He raised a hand, and the flames of his cape flared outward, spreading warmth across the field. It coursed through me, life-affirming and whole, as though he were reminding me of my place in the endless cycle of creation. Bel-Ishûn. Paradise.

The meadow wasn't just a dream, I think it was a vision. No, it was a promise. And in that moment, I felt his voice, not in words, but in the sense of purpose and belonging that lingered in the golden and warm light. I just can't remember the words right now.

It gives me hope, it gives me purpose. I will do the world proud, I'll bring my light to everyone I meet. I'll share the warmth with them all.

Are you watching me, Agaslakku? I'm going to make you proud.

---

[The page is splattered in crimson blood. The rest of the pages of the book are cindered and burnt to blackness. No more writing would etch these soft vellum pages. No more words of a Priest of Flame, a candle in the dark, a light extinguished. No more inspirational quotes, dreams, hopes, drawings, smiles, hugs, and wishes. No more. Only silence awaits the rest of the book. Inky black and cold. The flame will no longer preserve him, only memory will now.]