There are signs of struggle everywhere. The morning light revealed gashes in the trees and large rocks overturned. Broken ferns lay scattered all around the area south of the trail across the Broken Circle. Whatever happened here was messy, and carries on further south from the trailhead.

The gashes appear from a mix of sources but, if I were to guess, many looked like the result of Whips of the Wind. Dionus left his mark, and there is plenty of blood to prove it. But there are no bodies. I did find Balthandar’s Klotian blade, the one I promised Timber I would teach her to use. So far it’s the strongest physical evidence that my companions were involved.


Salisir is making his own final sweep of the area before we move south. He was looking for something. I finally asked what, and all he said was, “Evidence.”

Obtuse, stubborn, spiteful old man.

We need to move. If this blood belonged to any of my friends, their time was short when this happened. We have been separated too long already.

Salisir did finally ask me a question, although it was about the key I wear around my neck. To be honest, I had forgotten it and I found it odd that he would even notice. I explained how we had saved Bantish’s village from a group of Mentalists in the early days of our arrival in the Nanten. I told him I wear the key we found on one of them next to the turtle gem I received from Inifra’s people. Together they serve as reminders of the dual nature of this place.

You never know what you will find in the Nanten, treachery or kindness.

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