A/N: Hello, everyone! I just want to warn, unfortunately this is going to be my last chapter…For the night. Usually I post once in the evenings, and then once in the early morning, because I have a god awful sleep schedule.

I'm going to actually try and fix it tonight, so…Once I publish this chapter, I'm heading to bed.

This chapter's a lot lighter and more silly than the last few, I felt like we needed a little bit of levity.

Entry 4. Scabuary 14th.

It's been a little while since I last wrote, hasn't it? My deepest apologies, I've been rather busy with my studies. The Boiling Isles is a land of wonder, and…While I'm not quite there yet, I feel if I continue at this pace I'll be able to make a real difference sooner rather than later.

As for what I'm studying, well…Okay, It requires a little bit of context. Plus, I find the story quite fascinating.

For roughly 350 years, The Boiling Isles was ruled by a witch who called himself Obron. Yes, 350. I did some asking and apparently the average life span of a witch is only about 100. His secret? Palismen. He consumed their life forces just to add onto his.

This led to…Well, besides Palismen becoming far more scarce, the material they're carved out of - Palistrom wood, became extremely scarce. There have been attempts to plant more of the trees, but they're very slow things to grow.

I apologize, I got ahead of myself. He claimed to be able to speak to the titan, and that titan claimed that using magic without restriction angered him. Through heavy propaganda and an iron fist, he conquered the Isles and united them under a system of 'Covens.'

Eight distinct coven tracks, with members only able to cast magic according to their covens. The sigils on their wrist restricted their magic output, forcefully. Though, a ninth coven - his coven, was allowed to use it freely.

It all culminated on what he called 'The day of Unity', where he drained the magic, and thusly, the life force of every single person with one of those damned sigils. Though, a small but determined resistance was able to stop him just in time.

I find his story interesting, and powerful. It has a unique ability to churn my stomach like nothing else. Truly, this person disgusts me…And frightens me, to a point.

Some part of me wishes I could've been part of the resistance, if just so I got the opportunity to spit in his face. Perhaps I was, actually, I noticed that I don't have one of those coven sigils on my wrist. But I don't want to take any undeserved credit.

Truly, I don't understand how someone could hate a land so majestic. It may be grotesque at first glance, but if you take the time to actually stop and inspect it, it's a beauty unparalleled.

Darius and Alador have been working on a spell to try and remove these coven sigils, but so far any solutions to this problem have been wildly inefficient or otherwise had harmful side-effects. Apparently the method with the most success has just been cutting off the arm the sigil is on, which- is a bit overkill in my eyes.

I've been developing some theories about ways they could possibly be removed, but…I'm not quite there yet. I really want one of the gloves they used to administer these sigils to reverse engineer, I will ask Amity about it in the morning.

Speaking of magic, I've been learning a great deal about it. Unfortunately, according to Luz, my bile-sac…Which is a little organ that lets me cast magic, doesn't function due old age. A shame, but I am still able to cast limited forms of magic - both through my palisman, and Glyph combinations that control the inert magic in the air.

It's fascinating stuff, in my eyes.

Oh, my palisman, that's right. That's as good a segue as any. Just under two weeks ago, a little bundle of joy I named Currant entered my life. Taking the form of a Crow, with deep purple feathers. She's inquisitive, a Problem-Solver, and a little bit mischievous. Luz says we're a good match for each other.

Initially, Amity was fearful that her Palisman, Ghost, would try to hurt mine. Something about natural predator and prey dynamics of the animals they represent…

But Currant's far too clever to ever get caught like that! In fact, I saw them playing the other day. It was the most adorable thing I'd ever seen.

Currant has been a great help. Both in keeping me company, but also keeping me stay sane. The night-terrors haven't stopped. Though they've calmed down slightly. I haven't had any…horrid ones, since the one with Caleb I described in my last entry. Just more blurry figures I can't make out.

Whenever I wake up with a fright, feeling Currant cuddled up to my neck is usually enough to calm me down enough to fall asleep. Though my sleep still isn't great, it's much improved.

I'm curious, though, who possibly could've carved her? According to the research, Palisman are traditionally carved by Young Witches as a sort of coming-of-age ritual…But since Obron over-harvested Palistrom trees, that's out of the question. Perhaps she was carved a long time ago before being given to me? I wish I knew, but…On the list of mysteries, it ranks near the bottom, truth be told.

The last thing I want to write about, is that I've been hitting it off with Hieronymous Bump well. Initially I was curious when I realized everyone called him by his last name, but it's just so much catchier.

There's just something about him. His face, his hair, his voice, his sense of humor… I love spending time with him, and I hope we can become closer friends soon. Perhaps something moreso. I don't know, but I'm holding out hope.

Until next time.