It is night here. I miss the warmth of the Italian coast. Here, it nearly never rains. This time of year back home it would rain once a day. Sometimes twice. He has taken me in to train. It is nice having a man around again. I do feel there is something in the manner in which he looks at me. He is a strange man but also a kind one. He got me away from the Gypsies.He has taken me to a house full of the hooded men. Something strange has come to me from a young fellow I grew up with. I am to keep it safe here in Istanbul with me. Yusuf is a good man and I think I could have a life here with him. This artifact is kept in my chambers; I am not allowed to look, open, or ,and especially, touch it. Even Yusuf has told me to stay away from it. I fear the power of this artifact. I have pressed my luck with it now. I have touched the crate it was in. A great power has come to me. I fear what it is capable of. My chambers are the last due to the hookah, tobacco pipes, many of the men here smoke. All but Yusuf. He seems to be the most civilized one here.He has begun to court me. His gifts are of the finest quality. My shop has become the finest in all of Istanbul. I have begun to think all of this is just a dream. All this is new to me aside from the privilege to have courtiers back in Firenze. It will not be long here that I will be certain that I could marry him. I do not speak of the artifact out of here. I have looked upon it. It is a sphere of fine Gold and the carvings are so intricate. It was beautiful. My heart raced as I looked upon it. There is great good and great evil in that artifact. Which one I will access in my study of it? I do not know. As I looked upon it there was something that overtook me and I felt pain. Harsh pain. I found myself shrieking and moaning in the arms of a woman. She says I was hysterical and running the streets accusing people of taking the very thing I had in my possession. My fears were all realized as people watched from a far. The woman was my apprentice. I have finally decided that the Artifact is in fact evil. I do not know how or why it has come to me. Maybe my writing will influence others. I keep this book to myself and hidden away. It knew about my writing. I fear that it will haunt me until I look into its golden gaze once again.
YOU ARE READING
Diary of a Painter
FantasyA diary has just been found in an old Florence building. It holds some startling information of the world no one has discovered. Dating back to the time of Columbus, the diary holds a stiff young graduate at a hard place due to her vow of honesty.
