20th Eleventh Moon 274 AC
More than a year has past since my last entry, I felt no significant need to write it, progress has been slow but certainly steady. I am now in my seventh, going on eighth, year in this damnable world of Planetos if you wish to call it that. Not that it matters I suppose. I've come to the conclusion that the perception of time does change depending on age, it grows quicker in correlation to it I've decided. So yes time... this life has gone dreadfully slow as of yet perhaps with upcoming events it may not be so... well I'd almost call it boring if court intrigue was ever boring. Anyway, I'm taller, stronger and seemingly healthier of course it's nothing compared to my old very much adult body yet an improvement is an improvement. Writing is far easier with more dexterity in my hands and less short fingers... that's almost embarrassing to write even if no one will ever read this.
My guard Ser Gwayne continues to prove useful perhaps he's even becoming more than just a tool... an ally? My swordplay has improved sufficiently under his tutelage, of course this young body acts as a limit towards my progress. Besides I doubt I shall ever be more than adequate, the sword is an annoying necessity, like a chore it has to be done, even if I don't care for it. It's enough to protect myself from the average swordsmen I doubt I shall ever cross weapons with men like Selmy or Dayne... hopefully. Back to Gwayne, he has become my main source of information in regards to the happenings of the court and realm. The man in his duty and his loneliness tells me more than he probably should, not like I'll complain.
Gwayne and the Ratcatcher under my employ means I effectively know most of the goings on in the Red Keep, the walls are listening and they sing to me.
The King... no Aerys grows worse and worse as time goes on. Any light of lucidity in his eyes has at last died, soon Duskendale will see them darken further still. I've considered somehow arranging for Aerys to never leave that castle alive, though I'm afraid at how that would render my knowledge of the future useless. Last week, he had a poor serving boy's tongue removed for "speaking too loudly" in his presence. Ser Gwayne said that the boy apparently did not speak a word. Does this mean Aerys has become so bad he's experiencing auditory hallucinations? Anyway Aerys snapped earlier this year because Jaehaerys, my little brother, died three months ago... he was barely a few months old himself. Breathing difficulties I'm informed, the babe's lungs were too weak, I was surprised at the time that I felt sad... I knew the boy was doomed to die. Perhaps I could have prevented the death, probably not though. The boy's wet-nurse Catelyn was blamed for his death, her and her entire family were tortured until they falsely confessed to murder. Then they were sent to the headsmen's block. Rhaella... Mother has to bare the brunt of the King's madness, the sounds from the royal chambers frighten even me. Viserys will be born from these horrors, I'll try and spare the boy the childhood that led to his madness. If I can.
The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.
Rhaegar remains absorbed in his scrolls and prophecies, blind to the suffering around him. Perhaps he does see it and chooses his course of inaction? I suppose in the end it doesn't matter, I'll write to him... perhaps he can convince Aerys to send me to Dragonstone. I may not like Rhaegar but he's better than The Mad King. Besides the island holds more than obsidian, it holds both more books than King's Landing... it also may hold some lost clutch of dragon eggs. If I remember correctly... Winterhold may also hold a clutch in it's catacombs.
The Alchemist's Guild remains much to my chagrin barred to me, all my efforts to gain a proverbial foot into the door have failed. For now my investigation into wildfire will have to be relegated to the backburner.
The components of it both material and magical remain unknown to me, I'll have to fully focus on the magic of my bloodline.
My studies of High Valyrian progresses well enough, the grammatical structure still confuses me at times, but I can now at least read most basic texts. The more complex texts remain difficult and a tad beyond me, still I'm up to the challenge. The library itself holds more than I initially thought it did, yet it's contents are fragmented and elude me still. A new shipments of books arrived from Oldtown recently. A tome I was the most interested in was on the construction techniques of the Freehold, it didn't provide much information yet it was still an interesting read. The men who who travelled with the shipment was confused on how the book ended up in the shipment. A little gold made him quickly forget he saw anything of course.
My experiments in regards to blood magic has been extremely enlightening. The power of magic lies in the blood itself, death and sacrifice. To perform blood magic a sacrifice must be made, the larger the sacrifice the more powerful or successful the spell. A law of equivalent exchange I suppose, I've documented the specifics in a different tome that I keep hidden on my person. Anyway, the rats taught me much but now I've progressed onto larger animals, cats mostly. Their deaths will serve a greater purpose than anything they'd do in the alleyways of Flee Bottom.
While writing this I saw a shape in the candle... the shape of a women bathed in red and fire? I'm unsure what this means, I suppose time will supply the answer.
