I held myself aloft for only half a day today—half as long as the day before. I can still hear Baraq's mirthful laughter as I was forced to use the stairs. Archivist Orestes banished him back to his studies with stories of when Baraq, Seraf, and Manikaz were also gildless—an attempt to cheer me up, I guess. Many days, I feel as though I will never be worthy and that I may never be the ideal mursaat. Orestes believes I am foolish for such thoughts, and he understands how I feel despite the vast ocean of years between us. I am not to be gilded with armor for a decade or so, but the archivist tells me I should relish my youth while I can—find "small joys" before the weight of expectation and history becomes too much to bear. How can one float with such burdens? Before we can become gilded, we must become magically adept; more attuned to this world's magical ebbs and flows. Many of my peers can become unseen and even hover for several days without a break. I phase well for a gildless my age, and while I struggle to fly like the others, one of my forebears has started to teach me transportation spells. A blink here, a portal there. I think I have a skill for it! Anyway, stopping here for today. One of the high researchers pulled Orestes away a moment ago. She looked concerned—a scrying eye was resting at her side. What has she seen? I wonder.