One hot summer day, a Hydlaa citizen by the name of Quensh Zillitu approaches a house in the old section of the city. He lifts his sight trying looking and the ugly walls with big cracks in them, at the broken windows and shaky wooden girders. Upon entering, the broken floor gave him a strong sensation of insecurity, leaving the impression that it would crumble to dust in a heartbeat.
It was his parents' house, which he had not visited since he last left the city to become an achaeologist. And it was an old one, with a lot of history, which, with time, had fallen into disrepair, and even more after his parents had died. And now... he was back, after a long and fruitful career. Looking at the old place almost made the middle aged man burst into tears. He had made his decision. He wanted to rebuilt it from the ground and restore its old glory.
~.~.~
The workers started to do their job inside while sir Quensh stood by them dreaming of the old times this house was full of people, laugher and joy. Then, all of a sudden, came a loud bang and a big crash. The floor had broken in the kitchen and a poor worker fell though it. But what is even more interesting... he fell into another room, beneath it, a room concealed by time.
The old archaeologist came to see what had happened and noticed the hidden room with great wonder. He went down very carefully and started to look around, despite the workers' warning that the whole floor was unstable and might break, crushing him under the rubble. But he couldn't stop. He had a gut feeling he would find something there. Something old...
He searched and he searched and under a mound a rubble he found a small chest. It was simple in design and looked like it was in good condition. With the help of some workers he managed to take it out of the hole and put it outside in the garden. The workers continued with the repairs while he tried to open the small chest. He managed to open it eventually and peeked inside curiously. The only thing he found was a book dressed with leather and on its front cover he could read the simple title: "Journal". As he opened it the first page revealed the name of its writer - Broghar Plymm.
He then sat in a chair in the beautiful garden surrounding his old house and, in the light of the warm afternoon and the noise of the workers inside, he began to unveil its secrets.
