“JOURNALS” на испанском языке

The library of the Dralamut, in its forbidden rooms where the killers couldn’t enter, contained journals in which the Crimson Sunburst spoke of old books, of reading the anathema of the Rava, of the old white-faced silver-skinned half-gods who existed before the world broke into splinters.

I have read his journals and there must be something else, something that was erased or lost.

‘You’ve read some of his journals now.

‘I’ve seen the journals from start to finish.

The Sunburst – her journals are those of a visionary.

Some people nurse a prurient hunger to read his journals to find the answer, but it’s not there.

‘The journals of which I speak were written when he was young.

The journals were full of awe and wonder, gleeful childish fascination with the miracles she found she could perform, yet Red Lin Feyn had found no ambition for domination or such worldly hungers, only a relentless curiosity and the Sunburst’s constant air of surprise that her spells did more than make a sour taste or a bad smell.

The alchemist, when Lin Feyn watched him at his work, reminded her of the woman from those journals – meticulous, curious, fiercely clever, someone who did what he did without any hunger for power or prestige.

Or so my ancestor claims in his journals.