It is midday and I am restless. I leave the tower to take a walk through the desert outside. My mind continues to dive back into dark places, no matter how much I try to focus on something useful.

That is part of the problem, of course: There are too few useful thoughts to be had, these days. Few situations call for the old magic and the new magic is... not really magic and not useful for real creation (not to mention its propensity to corrupt).

As I lament the futility of existence in such a place, my foot bumps into a small stone on the ground, protruding from the sand. I reach down to pick it up and recognize it: A singing stone. These are littered throughout the desert, and much of the rest of the world, but I hadn't thought much of them in a while. However, with these, I could finally enchant the walls around the base of the tower, which is technically something I should get around to doing.

I collect several of the stones and head back to the tower. Upon arriving, I walk the perimeter of the wall, periodically fusing them to its grey and weathered stony surface by infusing small bursts of magic into them.

Once this is done, I enter the tower, descending to the library and, after some time searching, return to the surface with a small book bound in a rather pedestrian leather. I stand at the gates and open to the first page, somewhat surprised to see it is written in a formal prose of one of the older dialects. With a warm grin I sift through the book's pages until I find the incantation I need.

While balancing the book in one hand, I reach the other toward the gate and confidently read the glyphs aloud, small arcs of light stretching out from my fingers with each syllable. Once I have finished, I close the book and look up, to see that the gates and walls are now glowing with a subtle blue light.

Satisfied, I stride back into the tower and make my way up to the study, contemplating my plans for this now-reinforced wall. After all, good magic makes a good foundation for more magic,
...Nights