Day Five-Hundred-One: I can see clearly now

You know, I don't think I ever noticed that this diary has a tail. In fact, I swear that it did NOT have a tail for the last two or three months. Perhaps it did before, but… well… I suppose I always thought it was a bookmark.

I found the diary by the bakery, almost a week ago. It was crusted with mud and dirty beyond belief. I've since washed it off and brought it home, as its… owner… has shown no inclination to reclaim it. Amazing how easily one can remove stains from parchment with simple soap and water!

What a curious book. Dragomir has been through a great deal more than I expected. And this is coming from a man who knows that he died! It is a fantastic world we live in.

I suppose if I'm to write any further I should identify myself. My name is Harold. I am a co-mayor of Pubton, a fair and prosperous town so recently brought to the brink of collapse. In the year since I left home I've seen more strange things than any single man should ever see, and somehow I'm still alive. And so is everyone else I know! Fancy that.

This has been a strange year. It seems like so long ago that my friends and I were driven out of Castle WhateverYouWannaCallIt. And I suppose 365 days is a fairly long time, but the amount we've accomplished since then… remarkable. I suppose I should just be happy that my second home was not similarly brought low upon the anniversary of our flight.

It has been several weeks since the attack of the Non, those strange, black creatures. Several weeks of rebuilding, of recouping losses, of reorganizing and getting back to life as before. Several weeks of convincing people that, yes, Pubton can be a safe, secure home again. (Though with the Non around, I personally doubt as much. I need to put even more work into the wall, obviously…)

Given the enormous build-up to the attack, the subsequent ease is a little unsettling. It's difficult to go outside and not stare at the shadows cast by the buildings, to watch the walls in the distance and not imagine shadow beasts crawling over the ramparts and ripping down the stone. I don't care if Dragomir thinks they're 'just people', those things give me the creeps.

And speaking of Dragomir…

Morale is low in town. Everyone's happy that we survived the attack, but the absence of their hero, who seemed to drop out of nowhere and set everything right again, is disconcerting. My co-mayor has gone into seclusion with his wife, and aside from the platypus juror, no one's allowed to see Dragomir. Knock on his door and he won't answer. What is up with that?

Low morale or not, work continues. Even without Libby's expertise, we'll see Pubton returned to its former glory. We'll even make it better than before. I just hope that Evangelina and I can have everything fixed by the time Dragomir is done with his latest funk. He's been in funks before, and he always comes out of them.

He WILL come out of this one.

Right?

Sincerely,

Harold the Co-Mayor