It seems more urgent to write when there is bad news, unfortunately.
I sent the letter along to Neria already, but Griffith and Guts are both dead, in an attack. Their loss will truly be felt by us all.
In the effort of having some kind of good news to send to you I will include the following: what we spoke of at the party has now happened. I enjoyed it very much.
[The handwriting is neater, the words a little further apart, in this one. It was written slowly, like she was considering every word as she wrote it. Forming the sentences in her head before she put them down.]
Dominic,
I keep adding to my letter to you, as not a day goes by the world doesn't get half-upended in newsworthy fashion. The road started out quiet but Maker's balls it didn't stay that way. I was starting to wonder if I shouldn't just give you the completed book when we reunited and catch you up that way. Would have been smarter not to wait. Sorry.
It was Guts who pulled me off the battlefield when that dog came for my face. Never did make it up to him-- lucky I don't believe in ghosts I suppose.
Where did your people think the dead go? Do you figure people who die here go where Irkallans go, or to their own places?
(That's a question for priests and Chantry sisters and us being neither I don't expect us to answer it. Anyway probably they all go nowhere and dead is dead.)
[The next part is written in q quicker, easier hand, as though some time had passed between the two halves.]
Your good news has brought sunlight into this chill, interminable winter and melted the snow clumped on my heart. In exchange I offer my good news: I sleep indoors in a real bed at present and when I stretch out my arms I don't hit somebody else's cot, and the dog sleeps on the floor.
My other news I'm disappointed I can't see your face for but I'll have to imagine it as best I can. I've got magic now, Dominic, from what source nobody can tell me but it's there, a light between my hands in the dark, the latest useless but interesting thing I bring this world. When last I wrote you about dreams it was newer and uglier. Now I'd classify it the least of my problems. Crazy how things change isn't it.
Stay warm (though I hardly need to tell you that do I, sleeping between two men and one of them practically a bear. Typical).
I’m glad at least that the lack of letter hasn’t signified something further.
My people — it depended, I suppose. Personally, I believe in God, that we will be called back to His side, although I’ll admit that since I’ve been in this place I’ve been trying to learn, too, of the Irkallan ways. But He is not limited the way we are, I don’t think us being here would pose Him any challenge at all. Perhaps the Irkallans go to Him as well. Perhaps we worship the same God, but in different forms. Perhaps being mortals, we can’t truly understand Him.
You’re right, that we don’t know, and yet I find it a comfort to think on. To acknowledge there are things that I don’t know.
How I long for a real bed. I may be warm at night myself but not at all the rest of the time. This weather is miserable and I’m not sure if it actually gets worse every day or if it just seeps further into me.
Still, you say you have magic. That’s remarkable and perhaps a little disturbing, I must admit. I’m glad you seem to be handling it well enough, at least. You’ll have to show me, when you’re back?
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timeasmymeasure
no subject
Date: 2017-11-13 02:58 am (UTC)It seems more urgent to write when there is bad news, unfortunately.
I sent the letter along to Neria already, but Griffith and Guts are both dead, in an attack. Their loss will truly be felt by us all.
In the effort of having some kind of good news to send to you I will include the following: what we spoke of at the party has now happened. I enjoyed it very much.
Stay safe,
Machaíri
no subject
Date: 2017-11-13 03:12 pm (UTC)Dominic,
I keep adding to my letter to you, as not a day goes by the world doesn't get half-upended in newsworthy fashion. The road started out quiet but Maker's balls it didn't stay that way. I was starting to wonder if I shouldn't just give you the completed book when we reunited and catch you up that way. Would have been smarter not to wait. Sorry.
It was Guts who pulled me off the battlefield when that dog came for my face. Never did make it up to him-- lucky I don't believe in ghosts I suppose.
Where did your people think the dead go? Do you figure people who die here go where Irkallans go, or to their own places?
(That's a question for priests and Chantry sisters and us being neither I don't expect us to answer it. Anyway probably they all go nowhere and dead is dead.)
[The next part is written in q quicker, easier hand, as though some time had passed between the two halves.]
Your good news has brought sunlight into this chill, interminable winter and melted the snow clumped on my heart. In exchange I offer my good news: I sleep indoors in a real bed at present and when I stretch out my arms I don't hit somebody else's cot, and the dog sleeps on the floor.
My other news I'm disappointed I can't see your face for but I'll have to imagine it as best I can. I've got magic now, Dominic, from what source nobody can tell me but it's there, a light between my hands in the dark, the latest useless but interesting thing I bring this world. When last I wrote you about dreams it was newer and uglier. Now I'd classify it the least of my problems. Crazy how things change isn't it.
Stay warm (though I hardly need to tell you that do I, sleeping between two men and one of them practically a bear. Typical).
of House Surana
no subject
Date: 2017-11-18 06:13 pm (UTC)I’m glad at least that the lack of letter hasn’t signified something further.
My people — it depended, I suppose. Personally, I believe in God, that we will be called back to His side, although I’ll admit that since I’ve been in this place I’ve been trying to learn, too, of the Irkallan ways. But He is not limited the way we are, I don’t think us being here would pose Him any challenge at all. Perhaps the Irkallans go to Him as well. Perhaps we worship the same God, but in different forms. Perhaps being mortals, we can’t truly understand Him.
You’re right, that we don’t know, and yet I find it a comfort to think on. To acknowledge there are things that I don’t know.
How I long for a real bed. I may be warm at night myself but not at all the rest of the time. This weather is miserable and I’m not sure if it actually gets worse every day or if it just seeps further into me.
Still, you say you have magic. That’s remarkable and perhaps a little disturbing, I must admit. I’m glad you seem to be handling it well enough, at least. You’ll have to show me, when you’re back?
Stay safe,
Machaíri