I let my tears fall, but forged on, desperate to find out what had happened next. But the following pages were occupied only by rough sketches of different individual sigil components. And past that were pages upon pages of iterations on similar designs. Arranged together in a number of different configurations, each grouping had its own unique translation.

Shield Against Lies Cast Upon My Name

Dissolution of Lies Cast Upon My Name

Undoing of Workings Made Against My Name

Shield Against Malevolent Influence —> Seri of Clan Ashri

Shield Against Malevolent Influence —> Erek of Clan Odros

Clarity of Mind —> Seri of Clan Ashri

Shield Against Discord —> Seri of Clan Ashri <-> Zia of Clan Ashri

Mutual Understanding —> Seri of Clan Ashri <-> Zia of Clan Ashri

Scratched amongst all of these was one undated note.

Don’t know who I think I’m kidding with these ones. Couldn’t afford more than one of them even if they’d work.

As I turned the next page, nearing the end of the journal now, something fell out—two sheets of paper folded together. My breath caught in anticipation as I opened them, already guessing at their contents. One sheet had only a list of names. But the second was a letter.

To my other self,

I struggled a great deal in deciding whether or not to write this. After all, I wanted to spare you, spare myself, of this very memory more than any other. But I have been forced to conclude that my recounting of these events cannot possibly hurt you in the way the memory itself would, or the way the memory hurts me. This version of myself.

In ushering you into this world, I owe you this. No doubt you will hear about it from a thousand different perspectives. You deserve to have ours. You deserve the truth.

I couldn’t bring myself to reopen the ‘37 journal once the sigil was done. Read that one as well, if you haven’t already. It’s got a brown cover. When you do get to it, you will find a sigil-working with Gems in it. I have secured someone to activate it, and will be paying for it and powering it with the chips I’d been saving to fund an attempt at the clearing of my name.

The night my sister died, I was sitting on my rooftop by myself, looking at the stars. It’s where I used to always spend time with my siblings and friends, back before Odros.

And then Seri showed up.

I tried to leave. But she blocked me.

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And then she hugged me.

She said she was sorry for the things she’d said to and about me, not only to me but to others as well. Said she’d been so hurt by my refusing to support her dream that it got to her, soured her for a long time. She claimed that she had found a sigil-working with my name in the home of her friends, the very one I’d assumed she’d had made. They’d used the things she’d said in talking about me—something she apparently did all the time—against me. She claims she ripped out the Gem chips and destroyed it. She actually asked me to forgive her friends for making it, said they had the best intentions for the greater good at heart.

She kept fiddling with a little black bag she wore around her neck that I’d never seen before. I guessed by the sound it made that it was filled with Gem chips.

And then she told me it was going to be alright. All of it. Everything. Even her. She told me she loved me. Then she turned and started walking toward the ledge.

That’s when I saw the hint of a sigil peaking out from either side of her tunic, over the scales of her shoulder blades. Its faint glow made it unmistakable.

I went after her. I grabbed her. I asked her what in the depths she thought she was doing. She struggled against me, shrieked at me to let her go. I realized I was being stupid, because of course the rooftop was warded. I could feel a Frenzy coming on, and I didn’t want it to escalate. So I said fine, and turned my back on her. Fast enough that my tail whipped, really hard, against her legs.

And when I turned back, she was gone.

I hadn’t bothered to check the wards. They were always there, they were always kept charged. But when I fell to my hands and knees over them, I saw that all the gem chips had been pried out. Probably she’d waited until just after they’d been filled for the day, for a moment when no one else was up there, and gotten rid of them. Or had someone else do it.

And that is when the Frenzy really hit.

She’d planned her jump. I think. But in the end I don’t know if it was my tail that sent her over the edge, or if she’d just…gone.

Of course, the Truthseer is one of them, the Pathmakers—that’s what Seri calls called those who want the Rend open—and she crafted her own version of events. The sigil against my name may be destroyed, but it hardly matters now. Still, I don’t want you to think for a moment that I am innocent. I should have checked the wards.

I did not see Seri’s body after her death, and of course no one would speak to me of it. I doubt anyone else ever saw the sigil, though, given that no one accused me of crafting it. Lumicite ink gets its glow from tiny creatures which require a living host. Lacking that, they disperse very quickly. Without them, the ink’s invisible—and I am almost certain that is what she used.

I believe the sigil was her group’s attempt to open the Rend. And if that is true, then her sacrifice, combined with my outburst of intense emotional pain, served to push the sigil’s capacity beyond what would have otherwise been possible. I don’t dabble in that disgusting craft, but I’ve learned of it, and I’m afraid you must too, because our enemies almost definitely do.

Given the breadth of this working, it will likely be a while longer before Seri’s sigil takes effect, if it does at all. But I’ve no way of knowing exactly how long. Perhaps, when and if the Rend opens, I will be proved wrong, and all will be well. Perhaps the Gems will flow and peace will reign. Perhaps Seri will not have sacrificed in vain.

But if not…I hope that you will choose to do what I would have, had I the strength to stay. If my own sigil worked and you’re reading this, it’s because you, of all my other facets, were not only the most capable of carrying on in my place, but willing to do so as well. It took the world’s greatest sigilcrafters to close the Rend the first time, as well as many, many lives. I hope to the stars that you can do better. And I hope you’re prepared for a challenge.

I have no idea how different your world is from this one, what you may or may not already know. But I have packed books which cover the necessities, as I see them, to get you started. I have also written a list of every known member of Seri’s immediate circle as well as other Pathmakers of significance of whom I am aware. I am only sorry I don’t have the time or chips to do much more than that. Thank you, for taking over this mess of a life. Thank you, for carrying on.

I hope, somehow, that you may enjoy our existence. For the both of us.

Who knows, maybe you’ll even get a chance to finish the mural.

-Zia the First

I stared at the page. Blinked. Took a deep, trembling breath, and began to read it again. But I was only about three-quarters of the way through when I scented Thors through my scarf, his ever-present aroma suddenly intensified. Though I was half-expecting it, I jumped a bit at the knock.

He was at my door.