The writings of Zoltun Kulle, II

I remember how the days begin, but not how they end.

I jolt awake, burned by candlewax on my hands, feeling like I’ve been teleported to an unfamiliar place.

I’ve even begun to cover the cracks in my door with blankets to conceal the flickering candlelight from the other Horadrim. Namely, Tal Rasha.

I know he worries I’m working myself too hard. But, once I can finally show him my work, he’ll understand why.