Dear Samwell and Drake,
My heart has broken for you. I am writing back as quickly as I can manage, but I can hardly hold the pen in my fingers. I am numb all the way through. Or perhaps that is not true. I feel like I am layered like the petals on a bud left out to freeze. I am frozen through my skin and into my heart, and I do not know if I will open to the sun.
Hold that baby close. Tell him I love him. Wrap him in your arms and tell him that his Evermyn will be there soon.
As for the rest, we can speak on it when I arrive. I will be there within the week, as soon as I am able.
I have stitched Carthia’s knitted square onto my quilt. It will remain there forever.
All my love,
I know you don’t agree, but I think it is for the best that we continue to correspond. Now is not the time for family to be removed from one another, and now is certainly not the time for us to break the promise we have long kept.
I do remember, as I told you.
Something has changed in the air since my return to Silvanfall. There is something heavy in it, something that I can feel upon my skin when I leave my room.
Faras has not returned from the capital. He was due back a seven-night past. Ms. Catsan, the letting lady, told me that two days after he was due to return, someone came calling for him but would not leave a card. Faras has never received visitors in the entirety of his service to me. I do not have to explain further, do I?
Tonight I will remove myself to another letting-house in the city, closer to the sea. You can find me henceforth at Seawall House, in Harbourage Street.
I saw this music box in the market today. It is made by a Kafyri artisan and she told me that the song it plays is a lament for those taken too soon. I asked her if all Kafyri laments end so triumphantly, and she replied, ‘Yes, my dear, for surviving to carry the memories our loved ones leave us is a triumph indeed.’ I thought perhaps you could give it to wee Drake. He is too young to understand, but perhaps it will give him some small comfort. The Kafyri inscription on the inside of the box reads ‘blessed are the seeds of love we grow within ourselves, tilled into the rich soil of never-forgotten truth’.
Please show Drake (the elder) the sketches on the back of this letter. There is something with regards to the sun-glass that both he and I are missing, and while I am certain that my geometry is correct, I am short a few variables for the rest.
Visit the grove for me, Samwell.
Yours with love,
Post Script: Just as I was about to leave the letting-house and post this letter, my messenger returned from the capital with news that the constables responded to a call about a murder and found Faras’s body in the ring-road park two days past. I know you were not overfond of him, but he was my companion these past five years, and I will grieve his loss terribly. I know you will blame me for his death. You would be right to.
Note from Draketown University: There was evidence of this letter being twice-sealed and twice-opened, likely due to the author’s need to add the post script. The sketches on the back of the letter were intact, and while some of the figures were obscured and unretrievable due to their position on the letter’s creases, the author’s depiction of the Park family sun-glass is the first in history to be discovered. Without the artifact itself, there is little in the way of authentication. Faras Harovem, from public records, died 5820, before spring evenlight. -Prof. Mbuku Sanworth, Department of Antiquities and Curiosities
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