Journal Entry #12

Mortis'Shal 1002 YAR

When the end of yet another year approaches, I am reminded of the gentle snowfall that would grace the Western mountains. There is no such snowfall here, but the coolness is a welcome change. I have always been fond of the few furs that I have — a gift from Western hunters. And so I sat amidst scrolls, tomes, and other scrawlings on parchment, wrapped in a soft gray fur as I sipped upon hot tea. Emlekezes may approach, but today I am reminded of the simple pleasures of life. I will think of overseeing rites and remembering our dead tomorrow.

Today, I think of my life and what I wish to do with it beyond my religious obligations. I was born Beloved and that has brought me across the continent. It was not a choice I made... and while I cannot say that I feel a strong passion for the God of Fortune, I do care for him.

And so I am given this choice. Judas is... fascinated with the Barrier for reasons I do not quite fathom. He is a God of Commerce, Trade, and Fortune... I suppose it is in his nature to venture beyond, to seek new routes, and to open lanes of trade.

I have always had an interest in history. Ironic, I suppose, given I am an Oracle. I have found, however, that understanding the past can, quite often, provide insight into the future. And The One knows I often require assistance with deciphering this cryptic ability of mine.

It may be a futile effort, but perhaps there are lost artifacts that remain from the time before. I have written to the scholars and sages in Carmenthia and the brilliant minds of Nacheevi. Judas is excited by the prospects. It pleases me to see him happy, but... I still do not feel this spark I should feel. Perhaps this endeavor will be the spark I require.

 I am trying though. I wish only I felt that it mattered more.

Dysis Judas

Hastily Scrawled in the Corner: My dream was eerie. I remember only a man's face. I rarely dream of the past, but I have seen his face before. In a portrait on the corner of an aged parchment. Grand Priest Ihyesult. Why?