Ten small journals have been scattered across Sapience.

Only ten exist.

Each holds a handful of reflections.
short stories about lost direction, dimming light, forgotten music,
and the quiet ways a person can drift from themselves
without noticing.

I wont say where the journals settled, but
each major city (and village) holds one,
alongside a few meaningful locations.

They rarely stay where theyre left.
But if one finds you,
read it.
And when youre done,
let it drift to someone who might need it next.

If you go searching,
I hope you find one.
And if you find one,
I hope you find a piece of yourself inside it.

- Tentura, a goat

Penned by my hand on the 18th of Miraman, in the year 992 AF.