The Heir Of Dreams And Curses

Where somebody takes an unflattering photograph of me

Jeff's arrival brought good news and bad news.

The good news? Jeff showed us how good he had become at flying.

The bad news was that he had really brought the diaries along with him. I wasn't keen on reading more of them, seeing as I was afraid to find more mentions of my father.

When I told Jeff, he scrunched his eyebrows.

"I know it's hard to tell," he said. "But those pages were written when the curse had just begun. He doesn't show any recollection of killing anyone and, as we have established before, he must have had at least an inkling of what he was doing."

Jeff looked glum. To cheer him up, I told him about my own issues with my father. The things I had discovered in my dreams. He was surprised to hear it, so I understood Samuel had never mentioned any sign of my father's traitourous nature in his diaries.

"Well, let's read another one of them, shall we?" Jurji decided. "That's all you've been waiting for, anyway."

In my case, it was not true. But I didn't feel like telling him.

Edgar put a hand on my shoulder. "Things like that shouldn't be read out loud during breakfast," he objected, though I suspected he was saying it mostly for me. "Ryan will read them when he wants to, and then he can tell me the most important bits."

Raegan shrugged. "Do what you want to. Jeff and I wouldn't be against publishing them. It would help people know more about Set, and more people would join SAGE, or our cause."

I flinched at the idea of having those pages published. What was happening to me? I had merged into the dark part of the Aether in a dream. I had been briefly possessed before. Why had I become squeamish all of a sudden?

I looked at the papers Jeff had left on the table. One had an annotation on it, written with Jeff's handwriting. It said, We think this is about Vitaly.

After breakfast, I decided it was the one I wanted to read. Here's what I said:

Dear diary,

He came to visit me today. I don't know what to make of it. He must love me very much, to stand by my side all of this time. But the voice inside of me put my feet back to earth.

"He can't love you," he told me. "You're a monster." "If I'm a monster," Set says, "you're one too. I cursed you and now we are one and the same. Ditch white magic, and you'll become like me after you died. You'll be able to keep your memory living on in someone's elses magic. Think about it."

I told him it didn't sound tempting at all. I also told him I knew what he was doing. He was preying on my fears. 

"That's what you do," I said. "If that was true," Set said, "perhaps you shouldn't have fears. You're a monster, and a coward, and a slayer of your own kin."

"When have I ever?" I asked.

"You are me," he replied. "If you haven't yet, you will."

I had to stop reading, horrified. And then, I noticed something.

"I've seen this handwriting before," I said.

Jeff did not look impressed. "You've read all the books in the library," he said. "Most of them have been annotated by my father. He was a great scholar, though by these pages you can't tell. Here he sounds more like an idiot spouting nonsense."

It wasn't a great read, but I found myself wanting to know more. I picked up from where I left off.

"I know you think your mother didn't like you," Set said then. "I know she didn't. And she had a reason."