August 28th
Two weeks have transpired since the day I cast off the constraints of my former social circles. Two weeks I've dedicated to positively no one but myself. No urgent assignments, no blathering nagging, no accusations, no intrusive interrogations over my ethnicity...just the ever refreshing embrace of isolation. In the evenings Ichabod and I enjoy a peaceful trot past the local ranch and back, just the two of us. Quite blissful, really. My sole regret is not having afforded myself this favor long ago.
I informed Sabon on the 13th of my decision to accept the apprenticeship candidacy. He must have been elated; I daresay he may have even cracked a smile. He's now overseeing the corresponding arrangements, due to which I'm gleeful to note I've been relieved of all responsibilities both here and in the travels to come. I hold myself to but one commitment, being the delivery of the final and most vital step of my master plan. I've prepared a package that includes an anonymous letter for the military commander, the words of which I've recorded verbatim below:
I regret to write you with terrible news of an imminent threat to His Majesty, a plot of assassination at the hands of one within your own military ranks. I would have personally approached you to convey these tidings but for fear of placing my life in jeopardy. However, I have enclosed two articles of evidence, the likes of which I believe will prove useful in defeating the scheme. Among them, this sheath belongs to an ornamental dagger that was recently stolen from me, snatched right off of my belt by the aforementioned suspect. As one can plainly see, its intricate, custom-fork-fitted craftsmanship is an unmistakable companion to the blade. Though he escaped with my property, I managed to catch hold of and rend his cloak, or so was my mistaken assumption, until I realized upon closer inspection that I had in fact torn a fragment from a map in his possession. Beyond doubt this is the layout of the castle, littered with marks that appear to indicate sentry guardposts, obscure passageways, and hidden resources, and most disturbingly, a skull is etched upon what I can only presume to be the very location in which he intends to carry out the assassination. I dread to imagine his using my own blade to do it.
It is my earnest prayer that you will intercept this evil and deliver it to swift and steadfast justice.
Too much, perhaps?
No. It's perfect.
But timing is crucial if I'm to ensure he receives it rather than some sniveling lackey prone to mishandle the contents. As of this entry the commander still has yet to return, but I'm certain it shan't be much longer. Just a little while more...and my vengeance will at last be complete. I can begin my new life having cast the bothers of my former existence behind me.
Good riddance.