I write from the Realm of Shadows. This journal I took with me in
order to record my thoughts and settle my nerves in the absence of friendly
company. And to remind me.
This is a place of darkness and death. The air is acrid and the
sky a swirl of blue, black and purple. The ground is grey with a thin sandy
road. Its entrance opened on the lake precisely where and when the imp said
that it would. He also warned of spirits that would try to block my path, and what I saw beneath the dark waters was indeed distressing. My possessions are
few. Scarce supplies, the sword my darling gave me, Viere's metal gauntlet, and
Whisper and Ruin.
Why have I come here? The reason is really quite direct. The imp
told me that while my beloved was dead, the essential part – the soul – went to
this realm. The way the body faded in my arms and drifted into the shadows, I
had to believe it. All that my mind could seize on then was trying to find my love.
It is a great risk I take for this information. And a high price to
pay if I do succeed and return. But I must write on that another time. The darkness closes in again and I do not wish to waste the lantern.
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