Brave Brother!
I know I still have a heart for it twangs with agony at the knowledge of your loss! I am rendered numb with regret and I think I am learning how to fear…
…I’ve watched the graveyards of my husband’s province impaled by a multitude of obelisks for the dead. Yesterday I carved one for your loss, with the name of your beloved. My eyes burned as I did this and then came the gnawing jowls of regret snipping at my gut. It was a physical thing – this ‘feeling’… that something could have been done!
I have seen my pious spouse perform this trick! But he did not draw on the dark powers of necromancy. What came forth were not a muddle of flesh or bone, nor was it a lucidly smiling spirit. What rose was a mended and wholesome being true to its original self! This is not necromancy! None that I have seen! It is…
…I do not know what it is.
When I asked him, he laughed, wiping blood and greased sweat from his face – a face that miraculously seemed radiant. He told me that the Ascalonian monks possess such knowledge and that perhaps I would do better among them. I think it was my girlish silence, my wide-eyed mute confusion that softened him. I did not want him to send me away! What would Father do if I failed? Instead, he cradled my cheek within his calloused giant hand and looked at me with so much revealed behind his eyes that I was blinded by it.
“When we defeat these wretched Charr you may leave Orr and return to the Hall of your Father for a visit.” Was his promise to me and as my husband takes to the field this day I tell you, my brother best loved, I shall be with you soon.
I must seek out the Orrian priest of the household and see what he reveals. I suspect it shall be preciously little, but I swear to you, My Malach, you will never lose another close to your heart!
Marrow of your bones, now and ever.
~ Sabine.
I know I still have a heart for it twangs with agony at the knowledge of your loss! I am rendered numb with regret and I think I am learning how to fear…
…I’ve watched the graveyards of my husband’s province impaled by a multitude of obelisks for the dead. Yesterday I carved one for your loss, with the name of your beloved. My eyes burned as I did this and then came the gnawing jowls of regret snipping at my gut. It was a physical thing – this ‘feeling’… that something could have been done!
I have seen my pious spouse perform this trick! But he did not draw on the dark powers of necromancy. What came forth were not a muddle of flesh or bone, nor was it a lucidly smiling spirit. What rose was a mended and wholesome being true to its original self! This is not necromancy! None that I have seen! It is…
…I do not know what it is.
When I asked him, he laughed, wiping blood and greased sweat from his face – a face that miraculously seemed radiant. He told me that the Ascalonian monks possess such knowledge and that perhaps I would do better among them. I think it was my girlish silence, my wide-eyed mute confusion that softened him. I did not want him to send me away! What would Father do if I failed? Instead, he cradled my cheek within his calloused giant hand and looked at me with so much revealed behind his eyes that I was blinded by it.
“When we defeat these wretched Charr you may leave Orr and return to the Hall of your Father for a visit.” Was his promise to me and as my husband takes to the field this day I tell you, my brother best loved, I shall be with you soon.
I must seek out the Orrian priest of the household and see what he reveals. I suspect it shall be preciously little, but I swear to you, My Malach, you will never lose another close to your heart!
Marrow of your bones, now and ever.
~ Sabine.
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