The Manifest Orb

The Second Letter

Day 2
I met the scribe last night and am pleased with him. His name is Yuldif, and I am confident that he will keep my words exactly as I mean to say them, yet correct my spelling when needed. In return for my papers, I did indeed receive my meal. And it was a most delicious concoction of foods. (Yuldif, please thank the castle’s chef for me.)
I have measured the circumference of the orb and rolled it around the library floor. The orb is in fact perfectly spherical, which supports my earlier conclusion of it being magical, and is 62 sillons around its equatorial ring. The orb is about the size of an adult man’s head and weighs surprisingly light: about the same as an apple, or 13 quellas. At passing glance, it appears night-sky black, but after further concentration, the orb holds within its glassy boundaries a mist of jet blacks, violets, dull burgundies, and deep ocean blues.
I have not attempted any magic of my own with regards to the orb, but I know now that there is some secret within this orb specifically that may unlock new dimensions for me. I cannot prove it, yet I feel that I am right within my bones. They tremble when they are near the orb, yet are in want when I am away, searching through some document of Myrddin or Domiscu. One might think that because of this motivation, that I might try to unlock its secrets sooner or faster, but brash actions foretell doom, and I am still wary that it might be a dispelling orb. As such, much that I do is watch the orb or read from a few arms away, or, if I am brave, handle the orb with thick cloths that hold no magic. I realize this is an impediment to my progress, though, and maybe I might soon muster some more courage to feel its stone against my skin.