*This once-loved journal is now in tatters. Multiple pages are missing.* It's been at least a few years since the confessor left us to complete his mission. When I lack inspiration, I look to the note that he left me—my divine ordinance to carve his path while he leads the march against our enemies in Kryta: "Find a way into Bava Nisos, the city of the Unseen. Saul has guided me here, and our salvation will be revealed. Open the gate." Until this mission is complete, we will continue to search Janthir. This is my only mission; I've failed too many others in life before. I will do the confessor proud, and Mother will regret calling me visionless and banishing me from my home. --- There is no sign of any city here—just the ruins of Gavril. I wish I knew more about this destroyed place and the people that lived here before us. Caudceus had found a number of records, but he burned them all right before he left. He said that they contained secrets from Saul that were meant for his eyes only, and that we were not worthy. Judge has expressed some skepticism of this, especially as years have passed, but Tatyanna is devout. She prays every single day. We've managed to carve out a nice-enough home here in the remains of Gavril—while most of the ruins are inaccessible, Judge was able to clear a path into the old village inn. Most of the building interior is blocked by rubble, but there's enough space. Tatyanna has her own room, and Judge and I sleep in the "kitchen" (the kitchen being one pot for boiling and a basket of food). It's a productive home. --- While Judge and I were avoiding a small kodan party that has ventured to the isle, a blast of energy knocked us from our feet. My ears rang and my nose started to bleed—just like the last time we tried to cross farther into the bay. We rushed back to Tatyanna. We searched the isle, avoiding the kodan, but it was unchanged. Right before we turned back toward the inn, Judge's attention snapped to the northern bay. Off in the distance, probably a day's row away, a rock formation peeked out from the fog. I never noticed it before. My mind swam, searching through images from our prior voyages—days spent fishing at this exact spot. It was as if that rock had been there all along, but it had a freshness that gave me a headache. Judge rubbed his temple—his head hurt too. Tatyanna recalled how certain mesmer enchantments can give you a similar headache, especially those that manipulate our thoughts. Perhaps, she said, we were just under a spell.