A Letter of Sorts
Sabin just wasn't about to admit that he was a terrible letter writer to anybody in the world. Not Edgar, not the Master, not a soul in the world. So he naturally questioned just why in the world he was even attempting to write a letter to Cyan? What was he supposed to talk about? That latest meditation session that had turned into a disaster or maybe the last bit of wild game he'd roasted quite wonderfully if he thought so himself. Really, the princeling knew what to talk about, just not how to write it down.
Edgar had always been the better writer between the two of them.
The quill fell to the parchment easily enough, a few etchings into the paper and he was already to burn the letter and let it be known that Sabin couldn't write to save his life. Fighting and cooking were one thing, writing and organizing his thoughts into an understandable format was something completely different. Writing a letter to anybody was nothing but a chore and he had little patience for anything of the sort. Maybe he just wasn't that much of a thinker. Trouble did seem to be his middle name for some strange reason.
The parchment met with a cruel fate as Sabin stuck a corner of it into the lamp on his table and watched as the paper crackled and pop with an amber glow to it. When the paper was nothing more than a pile of charred remains (and after sucking on his finger for a few seconds), he pulled out a new piece of parchment. He honestly didn't know what to write about as the quill dipped into the ink pot and then fell to the parchment. He scrawled out in a child's penmanship:
Cyan,
Just what the heck do I write in these things anyway? There's always something happening around here and I can't seem to think about what to write. Not that it would make sense anyway but what have you been up to lately?
Sabin
Finished with writing the infernal letter, it quickly became rolled and tied tightly with a string. Sabin didn't have any wax or a seal to document the letter with as he crossed through his silent cabin toward a pigeon that had been waiting for a reply for his Brother for quite a few days now. He put the letter into the sack that was attached to its back before picking it up and walking over toward the north in the direction of the Zozo mountains.
"To Cyan in the Zozo mountains little birdie." Sabin said before throwing the bird into the air and watching satisfactorily as the creature flew into the air.
"That was quite possibly the best letter I've ever written," he said with a mighty laugh before heading back inside.
It was time for tea after all.