Namaari,

I know this is hard for you. It's hard for me, too. But we can't see each other again until we get through all this. I would like to be around you again sometime within the next year, so I'm going to need you to work with me a little more. If your next letter is less than a page, I'm going to feed it to Tuktuk instead of reading it.

Okay, so, I wouldn't actually do that. I would still read it. But like I said, I need you to try a little harder.

I know we didn't visit each other often in the last couple years, but looking back, every time I've been around you, it felt like you were hiding something that you were afraid to let me see. To let anyone see. And I don't mean that you were hiding another betrayal. That's not what I meant at all. You just seemed so sad, and unless you were around me, you were pretty much always alone.

I remember what it's like to feel that way and I still do sometimes. But neither of us has to feel that way anymore.

I really hope this doesn't come across as weird, but I had a dream about you last night. It's one I've had before but I wasn't sure how to tell you about it. Telling you this way still doesn't feel like a good idea, because I'm pretty sure I sound really weird and maybe a little creepy, but I'm going to tell you anyway.

In the dream, I'm sick, or hurt somehow. It's all very foggy, so it's hard to tell exactly. I'm not sure where I am, but I know I can't get anywhere else because I'm too weak to move. I just lay there for a long time until I pass out. Then the next time I wake up, I'm in your arms and you're carrying me somewhere. But I'm still only half-conscious, so I can't say anything to you, and I pass out again before we get wherever it is you're taking me.

I think I first started having that dream during those six years when I was on my own. It always confused me before, but when I had it this time it made me feel safe.

I for sure sound weird and creepy but it just feels really important that you know about my dream.

That's not any better. I'm going to move on now.

Your mother asked me to work with General Atitāya so I can learn more about being a leader. I thought it was a good idea, but it turns out Atitāya is just as intense as you and Virana. Why is everyone from Fang like this? Do any of you ever relax?

Atitāya has been showing me all the rebuilding work that's going on in Fang. She took me to one of the newer villages on the mainland and it was nice to see so many people working together toward something constructive. I don't really know what I'm doing yet, so I wasn't very helpful, but it felt good to be a part of it.

I'm looking forward to your next, much LONGER letter.

Raya

Raya

I'm sorry my last letter was so disappointing. I want to see you again as soon as possible, so I promise I'm going to try my best to work on my part of this.

To start, that dream you mentioned wasn't really a dream. Well, it was at this point, but it wasn't at first. It was a memory. Because that actually happened.

I think it was about four years after the Druun came back. One of Fang's scouts had reported seeing you along the border, so I went looking for you. I found you about a mile outside of a village in Talon. You were really, really sick, to the point that I was worried you wouldn't wake up again. I brought you to a healer in the village and asked them to care for you. I stayed until your fever broke, but I left before you woke up. I figured at that point you probably didn't want to see me or know that I had helped you.

Now it's my turn to sound weird and creepy, because I should tell you that wasn't the first time that I went looking for you. Every time I heard that someone, somewhere had seen you, even if it was just a rumor, I had to follow it. I had no idea why and honestly a lot of the time it made me really mad, but it was like I didn't have a choice. I had to know if you were still alive. Or if you were stone.

I think part of it was trying to ease some of the guilt I felt. Every time I passed by people the Druun had turned to stone, I searched their faces to see if I could find yours. I'm not sure what I would have done if I had found you. Part of me seemed to think that if I could know for sure that you were still alive and not stone, I could breathe a little more easily again.

But actually finding you didn't help the way I wanted, at least at the time. I'm glad I brought you to that healer and I don't regret it now, but at that point it only made me feel worse.

I tried to shove that feeling and a lot of my other emotions away for a long time, but obviously that kind of caught up with me. Benja, of course, saw that right away and he asked me to meditate and just sit with my feelings. The first few times I tried it didn't work very well. And I got impatient after five minutes and went to do something else.

I tried it again after reading your letter and writing the first part of mine and it felt different. I started crying almost immediately and I didn't stop for a long time. But after I was done, it felt like I could actually breathe deeply again. Like some of the weight I've been carrying on my shoulders since I was a child finally lifted.

It also opened the floodgates for all the other emotions I've been avoiding for so long, so that hasn't been fun. But it helps to know that we're working through this together.

Namaari