Personal Research Journal
Magister Arcanum Zethrian Corvus
Chief Scholar of Interdimensional Phenomena, Imperial Academy of Drakmoor
Entry I: On the Ancient Portal Apparatus
15th Day of Nykhal, 80th Year of the Council of Nations
Three months now since we first activated the gateway, and every day brings new revelations. This portal is ancient—older than anything in our records. The runic inscriptions predate even Old Drakian by millennia. Whatever civilization built this thing possessed magical knowledge that puts our current understanding to shame.
The strangest part? They deliberately left it dormant. Why build such a masterwork only to seal it away? Did they finish whatever grand project required interdimensional travel? Or did they discover something on the other side that made them reconsider?
Silas has been pestering me about "anomalous readings" from the portal's magical field. The boy insists it's "actively changing" rather than simply responding to our activation spells. I've checked his work twice—sloppy measurement technique, nothing more. These junior magisters get so excited about their first major assignment they start seeing patterns in random fluctuations.
The portal operates exactly as my theoretical models predicted. Whatever realm lies beyond that shimmering threshold, it poses no challenges that centuries of Drakmoorian magical mastery cannot handle. My preliminary scrying shows untouched wilderness, abundant resources, and not a trace of hostile magical presence.
The Academy will remember this achievement for generations. As will the Council, once their expedition claims this new world for Veridia.
—Z. Corvus
Entry II: First Reconnaissance Reports
3rd Day of Zethrim, 80th Year of the Council of Nations
The scouting teams are back, and frankly, I'm not sure what to make of their reports.
Magister Scylla spent two weeks cataloguing the local fauna. Massive bipedal predators, flying reptiles, herbivorous giants—the same types of creatures we observed through our scrying. Fascinating specimens, though she keeps insisting these creatures are "behaving strangely." Coordinated hunting, advanced territorial awareness, that sort of thing. I told her pack behavior isn't exactly revolutionary, but she just gave me that look. You know the one.
Kortan came back from the eastern valleys with even stranger claims. "Anomalous magical resonance" from animal specimens. When I asked for details, he started babbling about "enhanced aura signatures" and "non-standard mana fluctuations." Honestly, the man sees magic in his breakfast porridge. Probably just mineral deposits with natural magical properties.
The worst is Lyraelle's report from near the portal site. She swears the magical field is "actively expanding" instead of staying stable. I've ordered fresh measurements, but knowing her team's luck, they probably dropped their equipment crossing a stream.
Look, these are minor inconsistencies at best. Environmental factors, measurement errors, overactive imaginations. The realm shows incredible promise—vast territories, abundant resources, no intelligent life to complicate things. A few odd animal behaviors won't derail this entire venture.
Will they?
—Z. Corvus
Entry III: Disturbing Patterns
24th Day of Dralor, 81st Year of the Council of Nations
The final scout reports came in this morning. I can't keep pretending these are isolated incidents anymore.
Every single team is reporting the same thing: animals acting with intelligence they shouldn't possess. Kielan watched a pack of bipedal predators set up coordinated ambushes using rocks and fallen trees. Not instinct—actual strategy. Sorina documented flying reptiles solving problems that would challenge most apprentice mages.
But here's what's keeping me awake at night: the timeline. Scylla noticed strange behaviors two months ago. Kortan spotted the magical anomalies six weeks back. Now Kielan's describing creatures that learned from previous encounters with his team. In days, not years.
I spent all week cross-referencing the data. There's a pattern here, and it terrifies me. The closer to the portal, the worse it gets. The mathematical progression is almost... elegant. Beautiful, in the way a plague spreads.
This morning I tried presenting my findings to the expedition committee. Waste of breath. Lord-Regent Vlanarus called it "pre-departure nerves." General Falx said I was "overthinking field observations." When I mentioned the correlation between portal proximity and behavioral changes, Archmagus Valerius just reminded me that launch is in one week regardless.
Too much invested now. Too many careers riding on this. The settlers are assembled, the supplies loaded, the contracts signed. Nobody wants to hear that we might be sending them into something we don't understand.
Maybe I'm wrong. Maybe these are just environmental factors I haven't figured out yet. But every instinct I possess screams we're about to make a catastrophic mistake.
Seven days to find proof even those pompous idiots can't ignore.
—Z. Corvus
Entry IV: Too Late
1st Day of Thys, 81st Year of the Council of Nations
They're going through. Right now. I can see the settlers disappearing into that damn portal, and I finally understand.
It's not environmental factors. Not measurement errors.
Our magic is bleeding through. Has been bleeding through for months. Every spell, every enchantment, every magical breath we take here is pouring into that realm. Saturating everything. Changing everything.
The behavioral anomalies, the intelligence spikes, the timeline—it's all connected. We're not observing a new world. We're poisoning it with our presence. The closer to the portal, the faster it happens. The longer we keep this thing open, the worse it gets.
Gods, I can see it now. Clear as day. At current saturation rates, by the time they build their settlement, those creatures won't just be smart. They'll be something completely different.
I tried running to the staging area. Falx's guards turned me away. "Official business only." Two hundred people walking into a world that's evolving because we exist.
And I told them it was safe.
What have I done?
—Z. Corvus