Fantasy theme, ch. 6

May 2nd, 1050.

May this journal some day be read by someone wiser than I. Hopefully an old wizard such as myself still has the strength of will to find Vecna's relics. Arek betrayed me: I saw his letter in the Crystal ball. I feel sad and disappointed in him for revealing my dreams to his friends in Wasden, and yesterday I left Woodsden for the Eastern coasts, where I believe Vecna has hidden his tools. If I'm being followed, this journal is sealed with a curse and cannot be read by those with hate or maliciousness in their hearts.

I've lived a long life. Perhaps this can be my final quest, journal. I can only assume that Vecna trusted me with his secrets because he wants me to find the relics. Maybe he has healed in his frozen tomb in Hell...

My first dream was of the waves on some forgotten beach, moving slowly- ever so slowly. To someone who does not understand Vecna, it would have been frightening to hear his whisper. I know him well, as do you, journal. I saw flashes of him, his face. He was twisted in despair, frozen deep beneath the ice of Cocytus, the final layer of Hell, and the land of traitors. This first dream must have taken much energy to bring to my consciousness, for the second dream is even more vague than the first.

The second dream. I see him again, this time his whole body beneath the ice. His remaining eye struggles to open, and I can hear the ice cracking under the pressure of his eyelid. It's like I'm trapped in there with him. His eye fully opened, I can see it no longer burns with magic fire: I can see his small blue pupil, and it reminds me of when he was a child; when I found him alone and frightened in that forest. The color around his pupil churns and I hear his voice again, but even softer and more defeated.

Arek is cleverer than most: He will follow me to the Eastern shore. My crystal ball is hazy, but it shows me Narez the Homeless has left the Council in search of the same relics as me. If Vecna is trying to trick me, and I run into these two fellows somewhere on the beach, it will have been my mistake for being so trusting, and I will have to pay for my naiveté.

Nicodemus