Who is Abeline? Answer me next time you write, because the name rings a bell, a distant one, yes. I am thankful for the name you gave my sword, it personifies her. Gives Jilly a more… human edge. Get it? sword? edge?

I know not this dragon you speak of, but I may slay it if it dares mess with the Lady. Of course, there will be no need: no dragon can even touch a strand of the Lady’s hair before being reduced to ashes.

Leaving that aside, if my sword can cut through the seal, It’s my duty as the Lady’s servant to break it. I need to wait for her slumber, and avoid Gadorprims’ vigil, as he seems to be adamant on watching over her highness since his unexpected return.

I’d need to go past the main chamber, to the abandoned halls I only clean once a month. I cleaned them two weeks ago, and, given I petitioned the lady for access to the Maiden’s wing, wandering in there, even with a mop, will arise suspicions. I could read some apocryphal passages to Gadorprims to please him, as he liked some of my stories in the past, when The Lady asked for me to entertain them both. I am not sure how that would work out, though.

Another option would be causing some ruckus to make Gadorpims get away from the Lady’s chamber’s gate. An explosion, maybe? It would be noisy, and would surely catch his attention. But then I’d risk waking up Lady Scarlet. I could, too, kill one of the dogs, and hide its corpse in the bath. Still, Gardorpims is looking at me with his radiant amber eyes right now, and if I leave my writing station to go to the dog kennels he will know.

I could cause a disaster in the brewery, but that would be a waste of good wine. Good wine that could very well be non-flammable. I doubt it contains enough alcohol to burn, anyway, so starting a fire is out of question.

And what about killing Gadorprims and accusing him of attacking me first? Could be easy, could be lethal. I know not of his capacities in battle, and, given Lady scarlet seems to hold an immense deal of respect and admiration for him, I would need to assume taking this option would lead to my death.

For the record, that outcome would be undesired on my end.

Quite a puzzle we got there, book, quite a puzzle we got there. What would be the less incriminating way to do it?

Time to sleep, I will figure it out tomorrow.

A sigil of heating placed underwater, Francisco. Conjure it inside the baths and make the water boil away. Gadorprims takes a bath always at the same hour, or so I believe. If he finds a problem, he will call for Lady Scarlet to inspect the issue. That gives you a few minutes to scurry from whatever task you are supposedly undertaking, grab Jillsenbane and run into the abandoned halls. Once there, stab the seal, watch the… wood squirm and screech as it burns away, and venture inside the opening. What you may find there, I don’t know, and part of me doesn’t want to know. Make sure to take the diary, quill and ink bottle with you. Document everything, as that will be the most important part.

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Thank you for helping, vandal! I am weirded out by this, but it’s a nice gesture on your part—and a good idea, no less. A simple spell, a heat sigil. May need to tweak it a bit for it to work underwater, but nothing than half an hour of guesswork cannot solve.

Gadorprims will go and take a bath in a while, I have no time for this undertaking today. I will write tomorrow, if it works.

The bath is a cavern full of tortured ghosts, the bath is a cavern full of tortured ghosts, the bath is a cavern full of tortured ghosts, the bath is a cavern full of tortured ghosts. What’s the brewery, what are the kennels, what are the halls, what’s the blacksmith workshop, and what’s the garden, if the bath is but a cave full of tortured ghosts and the balls are wet reeking skulls in a pit? Kill the dragon, break the illusions, kill the dragon, destroy the palace, kill the dragon, save Abeline, save Abeline, God damn you!

How rude of you to call The Fish ghosts! They are not that thin nor scary. They just like to watch.

Back to the matter of concern, the sigil worked after a while of tweaking. The vapor was kind of fetid, which I considered unusual, but maybe the water had some minerals or stuff that reacted to the heat. Doesn’t matter, it will boil for a few hours, the sigil hidden in the further and deeper end of pool. It may not evaporate all water before fizzling, but it is bound to cause a noticeable drop. Now to play the waiting game, yes, the waiting game.

The few glimpses of reality I can afford to glean when illuminated by the serene light of a glyph or in the moments the pervading curse waivers are more concerning in each instant of painful —yet needed and gratefully received— sanity. I am not forgetting anymore, now that I write it down, I am not forgetting anymore and that’s tortuous. How long has it been since that battle? I saw my pathetic reflection on the foul water: the hair is now long, the white uniform tattered and dirty. There are new wrinkles on the face, and new bald spots on my scalp. So long ago, so long ago, I won’t find Abeline. I thought I wanted to find her, but, no, I now realize Abeline having suffered a death —peaceful or horrible, it doesn’t matter that much in contrast, as long as she is dead for good— would be the best of outcomes. Was her soul in the “baths” wailing along the ceiling? Or is she enslaved like everything else in this weird palace that is not? I hope dear Abeline is dead, now, and those very words burn my mind and eyes when I write them. I have eaten human brains, haven’t I? I serve my greatest enemy and love her. How disgraced can I be, that I love her dearly in my long periods of sorcery-induced madness? Jillsenbane, guide me to slay the dragon. Fulfill our quest, even years later, even when the world may have forgotten about us. Strike the heart, Jillsenbane, before mine gives up on beating. Abeline deserves at least that much.