Day 5 Marnie made breakfast for me again this morning. She says I'm never going to solve my problems on an empty stomach. I don't know if she's right, but her delicious crab cakes certainly aren't hurting anything. If the locals are right about no one ever being rescued off this place—Castora, the locals call it—I have a lot of crab cakes in my future. I do have a lot of problems in need of solving—I'm still not entirely sure how I landed on this island. Every time I reach for those memories, they dissolve in my mind's eye, leaving voids behind. I used to be a drakologist, studying the Branded as part of the Astral Ward, when— There they go again. Dissolving. No one from the ward has tried to contact me, at least not to my knowledge. I haven't been able to do much but eat and sleep. And sometimes even those elude me. I'm sure I look a sight—I haven't showered in days, and my ward uniform is all I've got to wear—but Marnie hasn't mentioned any of that. She's been unfailingly kind and patient, her and that Cassi girl both. I'm not used to being doted on like this. I never was by Isgarren's people...not that I can remember, anyway. That seer... When I was recruited by the ward, I made it clear that I joined to further my own goals, not just theirs—I made a promise to my people. And it seemed they agreed. But when I questioned my orders, I was informed that Isgarren said my goals would have to "wait indefinitely in the face of more critical matters." I understand his urgency in dealing with the Kryptis, but the abrupt dismissal of my goals felt like a slap in the face. Marnie and Cassi are calling. Maybe they caught another fish. I wish they weren't the only ones looking— (The ink runs off the page, as though the author left quickly.)