Wed Aug 09, 2017 1:02 am
Letters arrived to the Broken Dagger; not often or with any fanfare, but they arrived. Even more rarely were they were addressed to the proprietress. This one was, neatly written with proper sentences and spelling (also rare). It was the sort of thing that could ruin one's day.
Dulcie,
I write to you from Razasan after a span of years. This is to be a letter without much in the way of purpose. You may find this hard to believe. A long time ago now, when we first met, both of us coming forth from old tragedies and living new ones each and every day, things seemed simple. I had my mishaps. You provided succor, not just to me but to all others who needed it. You provided a port in a storm. I, increasingly, tried to fight the storm itself. I was swept away and you remained constant.
In time, however, most others around me were swept away as well, lost in my wake (or Myrken's; that is for you to decide). Rhaena found herself at the heart of the storm and she drowned you and others. Of those, you, not Agnieszka or Ariane (of those that, like you, truly mattered to me; there are others of course), are the first I am writing to. If you do not wish to respond to me, that is well-understandable and I will not write again. If you still hold your position at the Dagger, which is, I imagine much like holding a military position in a never-ending siege, I'd not hear news of Myrken itself.
That is to say the following: I keep myself occupied. I keep myself out of trouble. Of that aspect you would be pleased. Of many others, you would be disappointed and concerned, but then I imagine you've always been as such. In keeping myself out of trouble, I mean to keep Myrken out of trouble for my account. I saved certain lives and ruined others. Most of all, and I stress this more so than anything else, I lost control of myself in the attempt and became monstrous, driving others to become even worse. My intentions were good but they only served to make me all the more dangerous as madness and affectation took charge. You always had a fondness for monsters, Dulcie, but I do not think that was ever your fondness for me. I was very much the opposite of what you find endearing in them.
I do hope that you are of sound and sane mind, that you recovered, that your time towards the end of my tenure, first under a curse of love and lust from the storyteller and then, building off of that, as Rhaena's creature, are mostly memories now, ones to be classified away with the other horrors and pain. I hope that you are yourself, for you were always someone to be valued, more so than the rich and the highly-learned, more so than most royalty I have met and most grand warriors. With this letter you have my apologies, for what happened to you that I was not able to prevent, for what happened to you and those you care for that I was the cause of, for what happened to myself for I was one of those you cared for, and to Rhaena, for she was as well. You have my reassurance that I am, at the least, physically healthy and mostly sane. Safe enough. You also have my request to know if you are the same (to be answered honestly for it is the truth I seek). I have asked much of you over the years. This request is all that I ask of you now and all I mean to ever ask of you (though perhaps not ask you) again.
Your old friend, even if perhaps not your current one,
Glenn Burnie
Tue Aug 22, 2017 2:49 pm
The innkeeper sat in the back of the little room that she liked to tuck herself away in when attending to the Dagger's business. She was rarely seen about the place anymore, in fact the other employees mostly kept things running without much of her input as she only stopped in from time to time now.
The dry feel of paper in her hands, she looked down at the script on the letter. It had been a long time since she'd seen those pen strokes and she almost wondered for a moment what it was like to read something that wasn't an inventory or an accounting of the Dagger's income. But she remembered, how could she forget? Learning to read was something of a miracle in her life. It was what raised her from a simple chambermaid to a woman capable of running a business. At least when she was of free mind and spirit.
Her eyes poured over the paper. There were frowns and smiles. Reminders both good and bad before she picked up her own quill and ink and crafted a response of her own.
Dear Glenn,
You can imagine that letters don't come my way very often any more. I was surprised to see yours. How time has passed and turned both our lives that neither of us could have imagined in our first days of meeting. Your letter finds me well and of sound mind. Strange to say that I guess. There were years where I would have argued that such a thing could never happen and yet there twice I lost my way to the will of others.
I wish I could send you good news of Myrken. Unfortunately I've barely been a part of it myself lately. You've gone to Razasan, and many of those that I loved and cared for are either gone or left this world. I don't have as much strength of the heart as I did in my youth and so I'm afraid that one woman can only take so much. In fact there are days that I would love to pass the duties of the Dagger on to someone younger, and more willing to attend to it's management. I've barely even mustered the energy for that. I used to love the place. I believed as you so stated that there was good in everyone, but now I believe there is perhaps a good amount of evil in us all as well. I don't wish to meet mine, and I haven't the desire to watch what comes that I did before.
I'm sorry my old friend, I'm sure you didn't write to hear me moan about what is, or was, or should have been. I also have been keeping myself occupied. The farm has been my solace. My sisters have so many babies now it's difficult to count them all. I imagine I will blink and they will be the ones marrying and carrying little ones on their hips next. It has been a good year for the crops and I have spent much of my time helping tend to them. It gives the families a bit of relief, time to spend together while I can work the farm. It feels good to be so tired at the end of the day that all the thoughts in my mind are gone as my head hits the pillow to sleep.
There is nothing you need apologize for. None of these sins were yours. We are all mad when we're in love. I imagine you thought that of me often enough and now you know it's understanding in return. I am glad however to know that you are safe, and sane and well. I miss you, as I miss those easy days in our friendship that existed despite our tragedies.
Please do write again. It's good to remember who I was once. Perhaps it will help me find my own port in the storm.
Always your friend,
Dulcie