Page 520, Entry dated 14/1/1412: 'The hour hath come for the truth. My name is Hansel de Alvin. My past, thou askest? Once, I sailed across the Indian Ocean, sweeping down the African gulf to step foot upon European shores near the French bay alongside the same old helmsman. Traversing through mountain passes and pine forests, we arrived at the realm known as Casletia. In those days, rumors passed from lip to lip that it was a realm of unmatched splendor—just as the old man had so colorfully declared. And true indeed! The old man spoke no falsehood, hmm-hmm.'
'The city itself rests nestled within four great peaks, making passage exceedingly arduous, taking weeks upon end. We traversed each valley and knoll heading northward, exhausted from traveling on foot for months, yet in the end, it proved worth every hardship. I beheld the setting sun, a sight most magnificent—as my fingers touched the towering walls carved with breathtaking patterns. Surrounding the castle lay open fields of blossoms, and there, beneath the solitary apple tree, sat the two lads I trusted most: Fred and Chris. The old man's journey and mine reached its culmination at this very spot. The folk here welcomed me as a merchant from foreign lands, owing to my attire which appeared quite out of place. The freedom this city bestowed upon me was exquisite beyond measure.'
"So this is thy true name...?" Mary murmured softly before hearing the thud of something dropping behind her. Turning back, she found a stone resting upon the wooden floor. Yet she paid it little heed and returned to the parchment.
Page 523, Entry dated 15/1/1412: 'Now that the populace hath begun to regard me as one of their own, the folk here appear remarkably friendly, and thievery rarely findeth a foothold. Even the high nobility are devoid of arrogant pride. The court nobles murmur that I am a seasoned poet, and when first my fingers touched the throne of King Castol, the sensation felt pure and untainted by nature. He was a sovereign of great caliber, yet his kindness was so boundless it turned to poison. His loyalty and mercy... that white coin showeth every sign of flipping its face. For I came not to seek a new life in this peaceful haven; my true duty was to hunt down that very vagabond. His Queen was fair as the midnight moon, and furthermore, her heart belonged to me. Myrtle Castol... I was once her tutor when she was but a maiden of seventeen, before I withdrew to trade in books. Now she is of an age equal to mine... She remembered this unwrinkled face well, for in truth, I am no mortal man of common birth.'
'The old man imparted one final truth before his departure: "Remember well, technology, as time trickles on, shall become magic. And the power of such marvels shall be anointed with the perfume of avarice! It shall reach back into yesteryears to ignite ruin upon the face of history, devouring the past! the present! and the days to come! This vile cycle bath come to pass solely by the hands of men. They shall vie for power, life, balance, faith, or even freedom as their hearts desire, merely to forge... a new world."'
Thud! Thud!
Mary jumped as the stone dropped once more. This time, a strange chill of bewilderment crept over her. "What is this?!" she exclaimed, sweeping her eyes back to fixate upon the very same stone.
A bizarre thought surfaced in her mind: 'Is that stone... watching me?' She shook her head, casting the thought aside to immerse herself once more in the journal's pages.
Page 541, Entry dated 19/1/1412: 'I belong not to this era. The old man imparted teachings that have stayed with me always. I cannot forge bonds, interact, nor love. Yet should I fail in this solemn duty... who shall carry forth this will in my stead?'
Page 552, Entry dated 27/1/1412: 'Oh~ Myrtle, wherefore didst thou conceal from me that thou wert with child—bearing a son? That child belongeth not to him! He is ours! His face beareth a striking resemblance to his mother... eyes of ocean blue-green, locks of golden champa yellow. Chris must never learn of this, lest he or I be laid in a grave. My son cannot remain under Myrtle's care; thus, I have entrusted him unto the apothecary maiden. Meanwhile, as the spies of Gwendol plot their assassination, I must find that vagabond who holdeth the glowing ember before dawn breaks. Fredoric and Christopher can aid me, yet should I fall, a great war shall surely engulf this city. Forgive me, old mates.'
Page 570: 'It was him... That vagabond is ----' The thief's name was completely smudged by dark bloodstains.
'Now the war hath erupted in full fury... I shall bring it to an end myself, though it cost me all I possess. This vile cycle must cease.'
Final Page, 576: 'It is finished. The power of the ember hath lost its potency. Alone, I cannot hold them back. Though victory was almost within reach, it came too late... I fell before the Round Table of Vagabonds. A wrong move from the very start... All that I foresaw hath proven true. Could a single man pull down a legion of thieves? Thus, I intend to pass this will onward to that which our order initiated: The Order of Dekar. Now it resteth in his hands. Hunt them down until heaven and earth fall, to put an end to this vile cycle at long last, bringing hope and righteousness back unto this world as it ought to be. And Myrtle... I am certain... our child shall remain safe.'