Excerpt from Axia Deimus’ Journal

4th of Calor, 983 A.D.

Today, the set of artifacts I am working on is the daggers from site M24. I believe they are ritualistic in nature but, by comparison, ordinary. Hopefully, the spellstorm can cause them to act up in some way. I am doing a good job, at least that’s what the Censors and Caelia tell me. I think the Censors are happy that someone was willing to take my mother’s office, and Caelia is worried about me. I am not a reason to be worried. 

Also, turns out my mother had created a hidden compartment in the underside of her desk, now to figure out the passcode: 4 digits, 0-9. I’ve tried some today, and tomorrow I will try more. 

5th of Calor, 983 A.D.

The daggers, now different blades, in fact did react to the spellstorm and are now capable of changing the form in which they take. The Censors are pleased with my experimentation, though they are unaware of it. 

More codes for the compartment, still no clue.

Caelia brought in some baked goods. I have eaten my share, and well, what mother doesn’t know won’t hurt her, so I have eaten hers as well. 

The Spellstorm has lasted longer than I have paid attention to in the past. Tomorrow will be the height of the storm. I don’t believe anything will happen, but for some reason, I think things are going to change. 

6th of Calor, 983 A.D.

My aptitude for weapons has given the Censors the bright idea to hand them off to me first if I am available. Unfortunately, my aptitude stemmed from a certain lack of care rather than the actual ability to use those weapons. To make a long story short, I severely cut myself on one of the blades I was given, and due to the lingering enchantment on the blade, it won’t stop bleeding. The storm is also perhaps not at its worst, but still very bad. I will be sleeping in my office tonight.

On a happier note, I have found the correct code and have unlocked the secret compartment in the desk. Inside are a scroll case, a note from my father, and a necklace. Identifying the necklace as a nonmagical artifact led me to put it on, dangerous, I know, but I honestly don’t care at this point; it was my mother’s, that’s all that matters. The note, on the other hand, is interesting. My father said he found where the Scroll came from and who had written it. He wrote it shakily. I don’t understand what happened, but I will find where he went. The scroll is still locked away in its case. I will update when I can open it. 

After several hours of study and cross-referencing, I was able to open the case. The Scroll, and it does need to be capitalized, I understand that now, when I touched it with my bleeding hand, it seemed to drink the blood I had sacrificed and became more loosely tied. I do have all night to study it; the storm has peaked, I believe, about an hour ago, but only the gods know how to predict these storms. 

7th of Calor, 983 A.D.

I know now. I know what I must do, those beings that wrote the Scroll, that dictated their words to their prophets, they had words to imprint on their followers, the direction to Expand, to Conquer, to Endure, to be Eternal. These beings found my mother, and my father followed them. I will be searching for both of them. My mother, in their embrace, my father, perhaps he found her, and followed her, knowing that I would be smart enough to follow them. These beings, who have been in the background of my life for many years, have come to the forefront. I have been blind for a very long time, and am finally learning to See.