This letter is penned in a scribe's neat, precise hand.

My dear Moshir,

First of all I would like for you not to worry when you receive this letter. I am well, as is your father, and if you are reading this letter then we are together again at last.

Don't give me that look. Keep your chin up. I would stay with you if I could, but if I am gone I ( Read more... )

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You didn't say how you'd be arriving. A wyvern? A portal?

I wait anyway, wind whipping rain against my face, hair soaked and drooping, clothes heavy with water.

I have three days for you, and that bottle of spirits. It was all they could spare, and I hope it's enough.

Where are you?

Please come.

She should have been happy.

The letter had arrived bent in half, creased, and a little damp. The handwriting was his, smudged though it was, and the short note inside had brought a smile to her face easily.

It hadn't lasted, though. Too many worries, too many old fears crowding the inside of her head. She caught the courier watching her as she ( Read more... )

Fish and mushroom loaf. Gravy. Toast. A mug of sunfruit juice. Se'ala stared at the meal, sliding her tray back and forth on the rough wooden tabletop. The juice sloshed in the mug, not quite creeping up over the rim.

A letter. She'd have to write another letter.

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She returned from dropping off Violet's weekly letter with the postmaster, ( Read more... )

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