Waking from a fog
I feel as if I have woken from some strange dream. Baldomero is a sacred emissary who can rescue men from the edge of death and transformed my beloved familiar into a wild boar.

Ming you are a wild boar. I don’t know if I should cry or laugh.

I remember so little after the cloister. Did we talk with Kilkennard as a crow? Did a Blue dragon electrify a whole town? And did an infernal demon from hell cast a ball of fire at me? There is no way, I allowed a walking dead man to strike me. And still, I am in this bed recently recovered from a darkness so deep it feels like days since I experienced the light.
I have begun to speak with the priest here. I am certain he has a secret to the power of Cuthbert, but it seems as if this power is a lazy gift given to the faithful for their blind obedience to the faith. It is an undisciplined and lazy path to power, and one that is not truly theirs. It takes not skill, discipline or grace. It is a gift given for obedience. Any fool can follow directions.

I can see danger in its application, but still I need to learn more.
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