7/12
     Must hurry.  Even as I make these scant scratches in my journal, D'ni is being enveloped by a large green cloud of some unkown origin.  It appears to be coming right from the very walls surrounding the city.  From my window, I can see the people fleeing just as the first tinges of the noxious vapor reaches their olafactory nerves.  Cannot write any longer, must Link to Kormeka...

7/26
     I have spent the past fourteen days "tidying" up my family's Age.  I don't believe I have been back to Kormeka since my father's death on the day of the Third Feast of the Maker so many years ago.  I recall the funeral well... he requested to be lowered into the large churning caldera boiling on the edge of the island, dressed entirely in his Guild robes.  I remember looking down, feeling the raw heat of the roiling lava, watching as the guild robes ignited and my father slipped below the lava...      Since then, no one in my family has returned.  My mother gave me the book to Kormeka just before she and my sister escaped D'ni through the winding tunnels to the Surface World.  I opted to stay in D'ni, to protect the wonderful Ages my father wrote, and the feeble attempts I had made.
     I was turned down time and again each time I tried to join the Guild of Writers.  I know I have the talents, my father told me so. He said I have great potential... but as I am now looking through some of the books he wrote in his lifetime, I see some very detrimental errors he made.  If given enough time, each of his Ages would simply self-destruct, collapsing in on themselves.
     I am currently copying over one of his most striking Ages, Go'arsa.  Beautiful tropical beaches, striking blue waters, and a mountain covered in green vegitation.  But there is a fatal flaw deep in the soil of Go'arsa, a chemical imbalance that will eventually turn the ground sour, causing all life to die.  I will be spending my time restructuring my father's words until it is safe to return to D'ni, so I can save his most wonderful Age.

8/??
     I believe it is time to return to D'ni.  My experiments have failed with all my father's books, and they seem to be irreparable. All except for Go'arsa.  That Age did not self destruct catastrophically, as I had expected.  The soil samples I retrieved from there after my changes are striking: I repaired the line that contained the fatal mis-write!
     Except now the tropical paradise Go'arsa once was no longer exists.  In a strange result from my repairs, Go'arsa is now completely covered in thick ice floes and hip-deep snow drifts.  I was forced to rename the Age Taiga, to fit with its new appearance.
     I will be taking Taiga back to D'ni with me, where there are more books to continue my studies.

8/26
     I believe others have survived!  I discovered several books, one a gilded family book.  The name of the Age is Amerak, and as I scanned the pages, I found it more flawed than many of my father's books.  If I didn't do anything, it would soon self-destruct. I am sure I got all the symbols right.  Now I just need to transfer them from the training book to the one containing Amerak.  I am currently looking at the other linking book as I am writing this.  The Age, like the others, is flawed, but the large gilded dome on the edge of the island has grabbed my attention.  I must Link to it, if not only to search for survivors, but to see that dome.
     Next to the linking book was a journal, written by a man named Agmis.  He, like myself, found barely enough time to scribble a note in it to future visitors to D'ni.  He said he was going to Link to G'nidih, to escape the gas cloud.
     I will be leaving my journal and the book to Taiga here in D'ni until I return.

9/2
     Agmis annoys me.  He has his mind closed shut, yet he still allows his mouth to stay wide open.  He doesn't deserve such a beautiful wife as Noira.  I believe we have formed a connection of sorts, one she and Agmis never had.  My heart leaps to my throat each time she looks at me and smiles, the edges of her mouth curling up coyly.  I do believe I am falling in love, and I think the feeling is mutual.  As an act of kindness towards the siren called Noira, I am currently making corrections desperately needed by Agmis' obviously flawed Ages.  I am going to spend the most time on the Age that requires my talents most: Amerak.

9/7
     I must plan carefully now.  Only yesterday, as I was going through one of D'ni's many abandoned private libraries, Agmis stormed in, clearly angry.  He asked me if I had tampered with his Ages; I simply replied that, "No, Agmis, I did not... I corrected them."  He actually had the gall to inform me that I ruined his family Age, and many other books he had written himself.  One, he said, was almost completely destroyed.
     Amerak.      My plans were actually to restore the world to a balanced state, but I must have mis-written a symbol or two.  Ah, well, it was a learning experience.  Now, however, I can use my blunder to my advantage.  All I have to do is lure Agmis to Amerak some way, and trap him in the ruined world.
     Then Noira and I could be together... forever.

9/9
     Ah, my Noira!  I love her more and more each day... as my contempt for Agmis grows.  Why must he always be there, stopping my love from something that is obviously right?  No matter.  Noira agreed to my plan of trapping Agmis last night.  She is to write a letter to Agmis, telling him to come to Amerak right away.  Several days before that, she and I will retreat to a secluded Age, most likely Taiga.  Let him snoop and probe all he wants; I will be taking this journal with us.
     Noira will then leave the note in G'nidih, and we will wait for Agmis to link to his impending doom.  We will then live out the rest of our lives in Ages of splendor crafted from my pen.

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