Dear Diary,
I’m still failing to make any progress on decoding the meaning of “Dear Diary”. The phrase itself has me perplexed. Then again, I’m still only adjusting to living in a damp, underground series of connecting cave systems. Or I would assume we’re underground. Isolation gets me thinking, you know?
But I digress.
Today, I did discover a few interesting things, though they fail at dispersing some of the mystery shrouding my purpose, and my location. The first object I found was what appeared to be a series of square-shaped papyrus material fastened together to hinge at one side. I call it a “Book”. I don’t know if these sudden inspirations for names are the result of my memory returning or my schizophrenia (Though I doubt that I actually possess such a mental disorder). On the papyrus are various symbols scribbled with ink, which I’d assume are some sort of language. Though, what fascinated me the most about these scribbles were the illustrations. They depicted powerful magic users, and mythical beings. Great wars, and great alliances. At least, I think they depict what I just listed. Even when my eyes are adjusted to the dark, everything just seems like a blur at times.
Moving on.
Lying about was what appeared to be the skeletal remains of one of my kind. I found it while merrily trekking through the dark and twisting caves which I call my home. Its bones were dried up and frail, a sign that it probably sat there for a long time. I’d call it a fossil, but I’m not entirely clear on the subject yet. Beside it was an empty saddlebag, which is currently strapped onto me at this very moment. It’s useful for carrying the book, as I’m not exactly quite accustomed to using magic yet. While this is all useful and merry to write about, the last object I have discovered only brought up even more mysteries regarding the exact reasons of why I’m here.
When I had returned from my trek and made my way to the household wreckage where I am currently writing this in, there seemed to be a letter which hadn’t been there before on the desk in the office which, once again, I am writing on. It certainly is a mystery as to who wrote the letter, and the only information I have gathered from the letter about the sender is that he, or she, has the initials “W.N.”. I have yet to meet this sender.
The letter itself dictated and claimed of a place of salvation deeper into the caves, where I will face the surface and meet the letter’s writer. I know not if I should set out for this place of salvation now, or if I should wait for another letter, as the letter didn’t actually specify the location of this sanctuary other than “Deeper into the caves”.
I think I also heard something. It was unlike the ambiance of
