Logan
The morning came, and Crispen announced we’d be staying put for a little while so that we could figure out the book and how to get where we are going. We all sat under a tree, enjoying the shade and taking turns looking over the words of the book. You could see the care that went into crafting it—the leather-bound cover, the pages so thick with hand-painted illustrations that were stunning to look at in detail. I looked at Crispen and saw that he was in pain, which made me sad because I haven’t been all that kind to him lately. I think we just need space. For now, I’m not in a place to give comfort, and I don’t even know if he’s in a position to receive it.
I looked at the pages, saw the mountains, surrounded by water, surrounded by forest, and then nothing. No identifiers, just b
