Desnus 17, 4716
At first, the boy wouldn't speak. He would clutch his hands together, as though forcing them to be still.
His mother, the Baroness Bicknell, entrusted him in my care when this strange condition took hold. She described fits of twitching. Entering his bedroom to find belonging strewn about. And of course this damnable silence.
I must confess, it was not I who noticed it first, but rather my chambermaiden, Narcizia. While the boy was dozing this last Wealday, she noticed the twitching of his hands making a pattern resembling the hand signs of her people. ""In the veil."" His fingers continued wagging, disappearing behind the sheets for a moment before emerging. Then they formed this frightful sentence: "Norgorber consumes us."
When he awoke, I asked Narcizia to sign with him. At first, he responded with a blank stair. Soon, though, he signed back to her. He had no recollection of a veil or dread Father Skinsaw. He did not know how he had come to know the Varisian hand gestures.
It took some days, but the boy did eventually regain the ability to speak. And he would say such unusual things, far beyond the ken of a twelve year old boy. One day, looking at the map of Casmaron on my wall, he described in vivid detail the great ziggurat of Ezida. Another time, he asked after my great-great-grandmother by name. And then, as though he were a senile codger, he claimed to have forgotten what he said. Moments later, he went running off into the courtyard, a boy again.
I fear the boy has been possessed. And yet, he shows no mystic traces of enchantment. But something else... Some energy I cannot yet name.
Arodus 5, 4716
We have made great progress. It would seem Marinus has considerable potential in the psychic arts. Thus far, it would seem he has some limited telekinetic talents — this would explain the poltergeist-like behavior. What's more, he retains memories — fragmented, yet vivid enough — from past incarnations. I have written to my contacts in Vudra for more insight.
Alas, Bishop Ulametria has been unable (or, more likely, unwilling) to meet with me. Nor has she consented to my request for access to Cryptgate's archives. She has not forgiven me for my intrusions while investigating the strange colors sighted in the Hungry Mountains. Damn her and her proprieties.
Neth 10, 4719
There is still so much we don't know. The boy has grown... Well, he is an adolescent. Bull headed, strange, resistant to my efforts to learn the secrets locked in his skull. It's clear, though, that he has assimilated knowledge far beyond that of one his age. I fear that if I press him too far, the force of his anger will become... Quite literal.
His mother is pleased, though. More often than not, he behaves normally. His fits have diminished. For that, I am glad.
