5th Seojungsday of High Winter, Second Age 1854: Our encounter with the Winter Huntsman, a fey entity resembling a quadrupedal owl, was a significant event, though my interest lies less in the physical contest and more in its implications. Documented in Eraneth’s lore as a guardian of winter’s wilds, such creatures are often tied to seasonal cycles or divine mandates. The Huntsman’s presence suggests a disturbance in the natural order, possibly linked to the curse lingering over Hrivenor. I regret not having time to study its remains for arcane residues, as such analysis might illuminate its origins. This creature's existence, similar to the tree of dreams proves that even the immortal fae can be corrupted and destroyed. Isenara and I, bound by one body, stand at a crossroads—might the soul eater’s defeat restore equilibrium to our shared existence, or reveal a deeper fracture? My thoughts turn to the scholarly potential of tomorrow’s venture.
1st Vaeraleusday of Winter’s End, Second Age 1854: On the cusp of our entry into the ruined academy of magic, I find myself consumed by anticipation, tempered by the weight of what lies ahead. Tomorrow, we breach its halls, where the soul eater—whose prior encounter nearly sundered our souls—awaits. This institution, once a pinnacle of arcane scholarship in Eraneth, may hold secrets critical to understanding Luthais’s intentions or the metaphysical bond between Isenara and me. I yearn to explore its archives, though it would likely take years or decades to read through everything still remaining in its halls, to uncover texts or artifacts that might elucidate the reason behind the soul eater’s presence in a school of magic. What if this confrontation is not merely a trial, but a revelation? Could the academy’s knowledge mend the rift in our soul, or expose us to truths that challenge our place in Eraneth’s tapestry? As we prepare, I am driven by a need to learn, to converse with the past through the ruins, and to forge a future where our duality finds harmony.
1st Qindirsday of Winter's End, Second Age 1854: Last night brought on a dream. We don't dream often, so it is especially noteworthy. Even when we do, it seems our dreams are limited to our individual minds. This time was different-we shared the same dream-the soul stitcher made itself present before us, and without any words, merely small gestures it seemed to indicate that we are on the right path. I believe we need to confront the soul eater before our souls can be restored. I still don't know what that would entail, and the implications are dire. Perhaps we will find out that we can no longer be made whole, and when we finally pass on from this realm, the elven reincarnation will be denied to us? Perhaps it still holds fragments of our souls, but with only one body one of us will be stuck without? What if the only way to restore us fully is to merge our individual personalities? No matter what happens I know one thing. I have no reason to exist in this world without Isenara at my side.