Wanderer's Journal

"I have come to believe that becoming a demon is the final goal for any entity of Darkness.
That being said, I question whether or not Darkness truly is the enemy. It confers immortality- should it succeed, nobody would ever have to die again. Is that so bad?"
An ancient book documenting an adventurer's travels, dating back from before the Age of Myths. Follows their journey throughout several ruins in search of knowledge and power. The object is imbued with a significant amount of Celestial charge, shielding it from the natural erosion of time. It has an odd tendency to find itself at the center of whatever great power currently rules over the continent. While benign on the surface, the true nature of the journal is incredibly insidious.
In later years, post-Myths, the Wanderer's Journal is recognized as essentially a Celestial poison capable of threatening entire civilizations if left unchecked. It describes so many demons by name that even reading certain passages can draw attention. Some theorize that the entire Eideli sainthood system was specifically a check against this journal, or at least objects like it.
If one can resist the temptation of the demonic knowledge, there are several massive insights into the fundamental laws of reality scattered throughout the book. Just to name a few: algorithms for transformation in magic space, essentially solving the Relay problem; a 'complete' reality layer theory; and a comprehensive analysis of the Celestial mechanisms behind godhood.

Contents

"The Clerics did not notice. So caught up in their suicide ritual that they failed to see me slip through the perimeter."
"The first I met, appearing barely an hour after passing the threshold, called itself Amanojaku. It claimed to offer enlightenment: total access and awareness of my own soul. In exchange, my body would be used as a conduit for its power, ripping souls (and skins, apparently) from those nearby. Despite politely declining the offer, it was unwilling to let me leave unless I parted with some silver coins. An overall unsettling experience, though I now feel lucky for not being ostentatious enough to carry gold."
"On the sixth day of my travels in the Darkness, I encountered a relatively benign entity referring to itself as The Sleeper, recognizably human in appearance. It made numerous references to events that could not possibly have happened in recent memory- great and destructive clashes of gods, the aftermath of which should clearly be visible on every decent map of the continent. Just how old was the being I met?"
"The Sleeper left me with a a parting gift, though I am currently unsure what it does. Apparently I would now be able to see the world like it did, but in much more manageable amounts."
"It saw me. A great serpent of whirring shadows and bleached bone. While most of the others I encountered were open to negotiation, this one's manner promised only death. I must leave this place before it finds me again."
"Crossing the threshold landed me into a rather tranquil forest, only a pinprick of shadow marking my passage. Centuries would pass before a tear this small could even begin to influence the area. The Clerics have plenty of time to take care of it."
"As I journeyed back through the midlands, I stumbled upon an empty salamander nest. It had stockpiled a significant amount of gold- nuggets, coins, cups and the like. Despite appearing ordinary, something felt different about the riches. When I touched them, I felt, heard, even tasted Fire. The gold sung to me, and for a moment I felt as if I had truly understood the fundamental concept of Fire. Is this what The Sleeper gave me?"
"Silver. Shard of moon, fragment of dusk, untarnishing through shadow. Why, though? What is it about the metal that calls to Darkness? Even the demons I conversed with were open to accepting silver as payment instead of soul."
"I've stumbled upon another metal- like silver, yet not. Just as silver calls to Darkness and gold calls to Fire, this one appears to call to... nothing? Yet its cry is distinct, unlike iron's garbled screeches. Perhaps I can make something of it, give it a purpose."