Professor Layton and the Angel's Prophecy

Losing Heart

-Fourteen Months Ago-

There was a long period of time where Costillos did not write, and only a few sketches or equations filled the pages, and then it was clear to Hershel that many pages had been ripped out. The last entry spoke of spotting a girl he had known, but had not really spoken to in school. The abrupt jump now took him ten years forwards, and Costillos found himself in a place Hershel wished could be left forgotten. He shuddered at the name, but read on.

****

May 15th, 1997

I have received a position in the Institute of Polydimensional Physics in London. That's quite a distance to travel to, but Anastasia says I must follow my heart. My heart says London, yet it also says to care for the baby, and for my dear wife.

What should I do? If I were to travel there, I would find myself in the company of Dimitri Allen himself! That is most certainly a dream come true.

I shall have to sleep on it. Anastasia seems to remind me every five minutes that I should do what makes me happy. That she will be happy with whatever choice I make. How can I be happy though if I make this choice and it endangers everything I've known? Will the bonds still be as powerful?

Time will tell. I must sleep on it.

Time will tell.

May 22nd, 1997

The tickets are booked! The Monriel family is moving to London!

The Monriel family... Such a life I had only imagined. And yet here I stare at Alexandros, sleeping so peacefully in his crib. He will grow up to be a fine man, like his father. I make this choice knowing that it will mean a better life for us. In London we will be happy.

I shall leave this entry here. I must pack now. I shall put pen to paper once we reach London. There is so much to do. So much to tell. Life can be pretty wonderful sometimes.

****

Hershel skimmed over the next few entries. Interspersed with diary entries were pages filled with scientific and mathematic workings out. There were pages on rare minerals, something called imperium, and apparently sums to bending matter, and some of the equations even stumped Hershel, but he did not linger on them. Somewhere in these pages lie a dark secret. He would uncover it.

The year provided challenges within Costillos' family, and outside. He never mentioned the problem directly, though it seemed to Hershel as if he was struggling with communicating his ideas with others. As for the details of his personal life, they were all the wonderful writings of a man captivated by the new setting. Costillos was enchanted by his new home, his new city; his new job and his new life. He wrote of meeting Dimitri – an entry Hershel was particularly interested in, and then he spoke of another man. The name seemed somehow familiar, yet Hershel could not quite put his finger on where exactly he had heard that name before.

****

January 14th, 1998

To be at home, writing this is a blessing. The day has taken everything out of me. Physically, and mentally. I do not wish to write of it, but I started this journal to document my life and findings: to keep a record of my life. And so I shall write of the root of my problems these last few months. I had blamed it on the cultural differences, but no longer shall I let this slide.

Mr. Allen is a brilliant man. A far better scientist than I could ever hope to be. And he knows it. He won't say it to my face, but neither will he conceal it. I see it plainly in his eyes. Those eyes... They peer into my soul. How can I hope to live up to the man?!