oran was not as impressed as I thought he would be, which is too bad. Still, I feel I have proved something, if only to myself. I have to give up on him, however. He is too enamored with his own beliefs to give much thought to changing them.

My workshop is a mess. Two of the spells I cast on the anvil came from the book I received some months ago from Badger, and I cannot help but notice that in general, they are more potent than the rituals found in my own books. This book, which I have taken to calling the Book of Order (due to a page of theoretical text it contains detailing the ordering of all worldly things), is a worn relic that contains many spells that I have not been able to decipher. The charm of redoubling and the heat spell are two of a minority that are written in languages I know. I have been experimenting with the others, and my messy workshop is a testament to much exciting work.

In my experimentation I have ferreted out the meanings in three more paragraphs. As each day passes I become more acquainted with the strange little book. And as each day brings my closer to my trial, I return time and again to the spells I do know, including the Cant of Persuasion, as possible answers to some of my nagging problems of late.

he anvil was a cool presence beneath my hand. I uttered a few quick words, and sprinkled a pinch of salt upon its surface, and the iron in it bound tightly to a charm of seasoning. It was an inconsequential enchantment, but it would serve to prime the metal as my father had instructed me.

I reached into a basket I had brought, and found the thick mixture of cured dragon meat. I had set it next to the forge to warm, and now I kneaded it. With greasy hands, I returned to the anvil, and traced the intricate symbols that would focus the energies of the first spell I intended to cast. For long minutes I did this, and as my hands cooled against the the dark metal, the grease coating them began to congeal. I sang the rhyme of the spell, and sat back to concentrate and recall the next enchantment.

A few deep breaths, and I began again. “Avenal, Avenal, Parsela, Flam,” were words of protection, and I repeated them like a prayer. I scooped handfuls of white powdered saleratus and spread it upon my arms. That done, I returned my hands to the basket.

Goran stood by, motionless. With his frown and crossed arms, he was the embodiment of disbelief.

took little pleasure in the feast today.  The meat was stringy, and the eel muddy.  Even the wine was bitter.

The feast is usually a joyous occasion, with pranks played upon friends and children.  Indeed, most of the castle-folk seemed in good spirits, despite the quick showers that sent wrestlers and knife-tossers scrambling for shelter in the warm kitchen.

Only Maerta remained in the yard, sitting in the back of her meat-pie cart under a bit of canvas.  I watched her from under the dripping eaves of my smithy and felt as glum as she looked.

ast night I dreamed of chains and darkness and snarling rats, so all is not completely well. However, morning came and banished those evil memories, at least for a while. To wake up to sunlight is a gift that I will not take for granted for some time. A new robe, and a warm bed; these are good things as well.

People eye me warily. Some ward themselves when I enter a room. Their crude gestures hold little real power, but they still inflict me with shame. To avoid them, I have buried myself in my work, which is thankfully still mine to do. It helps. But it also heightens a sense of separateness, of being alone. I remind myself that Goran is my friend, and the spirit in the dungeon. And Fina….

There creeps a true worry. I have not seen Fina since my release. Goran says she has recovered, but warns me not go to her. It is good advice… but not what I need right now. I dare not blatantly disregard it…. However, I find myself occasionally wandering halls that are out of my way, hoping to chance upon her.

The halls are often empty, as many have gone to war, including Karl and my brother. Surely, she has not gone as well. Where could she be?