46 Sorceress of the Frost Tower

It wasn't so long ago when the Arcadian Empire was home to an era of magic.

During such a time it was common sense not to underestimate a blind mage, for they had many spells at their disposal that honed their senses in ways that the normal person couldn't even begin to imagine.

Julian had dabbled into all sorts of magic. Even in branches where he did not excel, he dipped his toes for a feel.

Empathy magic was something he particularly horrible at, and empathetic reading was something he could only manage on the most basic of levels. But he was thankful time and time again to have acquired such a skill.

It had been a few days that they've been on the road and on the run. They were all exhausted to the bones and Julian was a liability that rivaled that of Anderina's. He couldn't run, and could barely walk. After losing his glasses, he could barely see as well.

It really begged one to question why he got a turn to night watch in the first place.

But oddly, Leonel trusted him and claimed that Julian's senses were abnormally sharp and that the old man would surely squeal like a pig if danger were to happen upon them.

Of course he wouldn't! But the truth was never enough to put an end to the incessant bullying.

In the end, it still served Julian well because he was able to browse through the journal in peace.

A low fire crackled in front of him and he made sure to stroke it a little for warmth. Julian longed for a good inn or anything that didn't involve camping out in the wilderness. Leonel was leaning by a tree, his breathing slow, while Illysa and Anderina were huddled close together, seeking the emotional comfort the other offered. How cute.

They were in the woods, the trees not too dense. Though summer was about, it was still chilled at night. Stars twinkled in a cloud-speckled sky. Julian peeled open the journal.

He knew Mishana from ages ago. She was one of Prince Rother's flock much like himself. She was already mad then, and he had a feeling she would have still been mad at the time she began writing in her journal.

With his vision cloudy and sky dark, Julian ran his fingers over the pages. A subtle blue light emitted from his fingertips. Empathetic reading allowed him to decipher the thoughts and emotions at the time the writer penned down their ideas. It could be a little messy, but it was also extremely telling. The first thing Julian felt was a visceral feeling of anger and despair.

In his mind, Mishana's voice squealed, "He locked me up! That bastard did. Up in a tower, he did. Are they fearful of the Divine Light coming? Let them! I don't care. I'm no dog like that bitch Amari who crawled away from their hunting hounds. I'll let them know who the Sorceress of the Frost Tower truly is. If only they'd take these damned shackles off of me!

"I could protect them all! I can't believe that they think I'm the one that needs protection. Should the fire come and engulf me, do they think that I care? I don't! I care about nothing, nothing, nothing! Fools…"

Julian frowned, trying to pick out the details of reality muddled in the torrent of madness that engulfed her mind. Also, why was she still writing about him in her journal? After skimming his fingers over the top of the page, Julian realized that this page was written only four years ago.

Huh, so she was still alive not that long ago. But as far as he'd known there was no public execution or burning at the stake for the mad Sorceress of the Frost Tower. In fact, hadn't Anderina mentioned that she was tasked with taking care of her? It was strange to think that the Viscount got his second wife to be looking after his first wife who he secretly had locked away.

Curious, Julian browsed through earlier pages.

He found the one written when the New Regime had taken over.

"That bitch Amari runs for his little life. The thunder roars and the rain tells me of him. I still dream of him, riding horses on the Sunsarian Plains. Him and Father laughing about the pointless things that men do; the hunt, the women, the booze, the fame."

Julian scoffed, wondering what it was she saw during those years. She seemed obsessed, but Mishana was particularly obsessed with the Amari from a different era, one that hadn't yet donned the crown. One that was naive and rode horses and answered to the Stampede Prince's call. He couldn't even begin to imagine what captivated her twisted mind so much.

But that her personal feelings were unimportant and only stood out to Julian in the first place because of the spell he was using. He tried to filter the whirling emotions out and pick out the important details. For example, he found it disconcerting how accurate the details from the night of his escape were.

"The hounds are coming, nipping at his feet. My night is filled with them and the thunder cries. The mud is heavy and they're coming but north is the only way to go. A cockroach always knows where to hide."

Mishana had a special connection to weather and storms. But it didn't make her all-knowing either and made no sense why she would tap into the skies and the winds on that particular day.

Though it this entry was no different from the other dream ramblings that littered her journal, which made it seem that this as well was hardly based in any truth.

So this was the thing that Leonel was after huh?

Julian snickered to himself. He would make sure the bury any evidence that lead his past back to him. Though it might seem hypocritical, he did care about self-preservation.

Now struck with curiosity about Mishana and the years she spent after leaving Prince Rother's nest, he continued to browse the journal.

Back during the era of magic, Mishana was an arranged bride from the Old Regime meant to solidify the relations between the capital and the north. She was a symbol of favor. Though the woman might have already been insane, her raw power as a mage was undeniable.

The Viscount tolerated her but did not love her. He also could not bring himself to look favorably on the daughter they produced, and with Mishana herself being insane, Illysa was left with little in terms of parenting.

That was something that Julian could relate to.

He hummed and wonder when it was the teenager formed such a great bond with her stepmother.

They were clues in the journal but nothing solid to really pick out from the disjointed ramblings.

"Kereus has thrown me to the wolves. Locked me up. Forgotten me. Surely he's also cast aside that spawn off ours, the bastard he is. This is what happens to us when Amari flees like a damned bitch, it's his fault that all this is happening to me, the fucker! If I had my power I swear I'll bring upon the blizzards and the storms. I'll quake the ground until they're all buried alive until the worms eat through theirs bones and rot settles in. Kereus lies when he claims his faith. There's a new woman who's stolen my place and she too I will curse with my blood and marrow."

This was written roughly seven years ago. Kereus sure wasted no time with getting rid of her it seemed. But for some reason decided to lock her up instead her killing her right away. Julian couldn't reason with that. They could have used her as a tribute to the Divine Light and earned brownie points but now…

It might have been linked to the Blueiron Weapons that were secretly being developed and hidden within the town.

Julian hummed at the thought, and decided that he needed to keep the journal so that he might decipher it and pluck out even more hidden secrets and whispers of gossip hidden among blocks of angry ranting.

By the time dawn was upon them, Julian sighed, finding that he had barely slept a wink. He was going to pay for staying and being too enraptured by the scribbles of a madwoman.

Later that day, he needed more than a walking-stick to be able to keep up and somehow ended up using Leonel as a brace instead…