Sypheros 4, 1423
I wonder, am I wrong for feeling as though I can breathe deeper now that that bastard is dead? The man who took away my chance at a life with my beloved Branwen died by my hand last night. Part of me feels heavy with guilt while another part of me is more content than I have been in a long time.
If it were not for Ellyria’s insisting that we go for a walk yesterday evening, the man might very well still be alive, likely preying on some other poor unfortunate who happened across the path of he and his men. I even did my best to avoid entering the park, but again Ellyria’s pleas swayed my resolution. The rest was just like before. They waited until we were about to leave the fountain to strike. The only thing they did not expect was the degree by which my powers had grown. It was a mistake for which they paid dearly. If I had been unable to stop them this time and somehow managed to survive, I am sure that my sanity would be gone from me by now.
This morning, we woke early and left the mansion. Argus is nowhere to be found. I have been worried since Ellyria accidentally discovered the secret room in Argus’ library yesterday. With all those notes and that damned book. I know what he is up to, and I have to stop him.
Ambrose was waiting for me when we returned earlier. His time with the inquisitor has certainly given him a more hard edge. While I did not appreciate his ‘hands-on’ approach to asking me if I had anything to do with the deaths of the men in the park last night, I can understand. I am an arcanist, and by default that makes me untrustworthy. Ambrose is now the second person I have talked to about Branwen’s death.
Ambrose left shortly after that.