Disclaimer: Tamora Pierce owns what is not mine: presumably Sarran, Reiana and Runisa. Though, for all I know, aliens could have implanted those characters into my mind and so therefore, they are the aliens'. If that is fact, would that give, you, the supposed reader, reason not to continue reading? I hope, that is not the case, but if it is, blame the scary space creatures.

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Dear Reiana,

How is my father? He seemed much worn last I heard from him, and because you see him everyday I hoped you would know.

Today, in class, I was made a spectacle of. You will laugh, because you seem always to be a spectacle, but I am not. The professor insisted I perform the spell in front of the class because I had mastered it. In front of those people, I could not perform anything. It did not occur to me previous to that how many students were in the class. After my mistake, I was duly laughed at and attention was paid to me. My father does not mind attention, but I shrink away from it. I will not become my father when I grow older, though I know that's what he wants.

Did you not say that there was a ball being held in the palace? Hopefully, I can have a break from my studies and come to it. Academics seem to be wearing me down slowly and it would be a welcome break. It would also be splendid to see you again. I don't know what I'd do without you. I am too weak to face my fears, and I can write them to you and relieve myself of so many of them. Without your correspondence I would probably hurt something. It hurts to be focused on yet you do that willingly, so I write my angers to you. I hope by doing that it does not hurt you, but in truth, I do not know what else to do. It hurts to be paid attention to and it hurts to be ignored. Thank you.

Runisa is coming to Corus with me when I visit next. She is very much like my sister. Reiana, I am so needy, if I lost your affection I'd break down. I have told you about Runisa before, and I pity her. Unlike me, she has no family or friends. She has no one to tell her woes to, unlike me. She has no one who will vent her anger for her. I hope that she will find someone in Corus, another Seer perhaps.

Truly,

Sarran

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Dear Sarran,

Your father is healthy. He has been teaching normally.

I will not laugh because you were made a spectacle of. It was my own choice to always be paid attention to. Seven years ago I chose to become a spectacle just to prove to myself that I could do that. Everything I do is to see if I can. I wear my hair long and wear dresses to dinner because I can and for no other reason than that. Even other girls laugh at me because of my actions. I do it for you too. If I wanted to, I could sink into the crowd and be invisible, but you already do that. If I did that too, then we are both caged by our fears. This way, neither is caged. I beat your aggressions away with sword and shield and you can sink into the shadows and open the cage of my secrets and emotions. You do not need to thank me, we help each other.

Yes, I did say there was a cotillion in the palace. I will look forward to seeing you there if you go.

I also look forward to meeting Runisa, your so-called sister. Meeting a Seer will be interesting.

Because you told me of your embarrassment and harassment, I shall tell you mine. A few days ago, we went jousting. I held my lance right and started my horse running towards the ring, when my mind went off to think of something else. So, I forgot the ring and the horse beneath me and missed the ring and got hit by the sandbag. Admittedly it was far from the torment you went through, I just laughed it off and every other pass I made, I did perfectly. My mistake was soon forgotten.

I vent out your anger for you. You write about the injustices you face or the humiliations you encounter and I remember each one of them when I fence. Your anger gives me energy and strength.

I value your affections dearly too.

Truly,

Reiana

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Dear Reiana,

I am very glad that you don't mind Runisa coming. My father would like to meet her and speak with her. Maybe she would be the daughter he was looking for instead of the son he has. That man gave up on me years ago although he knows I too could be a black robed mage like he is. When he learned I was weak and shy, he gave up on me. I wasn't the son he wanted, the son who could carry his trade and his profession. By the age of six he couldn't teach me anymore because he was embarrassed of what he fathered. That's why he sent me here, so far he doesn't have to face me unless he truly has to. But, you already know all that.

Today, I spent my biology class smashing the insects that were intended to be fed to a collection of exotic reptiles. Flies that should have been some lizard's dinner became mine. Butterflies taste like dirt. It felt good to destroy something that beautiful. Am I losing it? Always I could vent my anguish to you, but now, I wanted to hurt something myself. Those tiny lives felt warm when they left their weak bodies.

My mother values all life, and me? I am not my mother's child either, it seems. She birthed me, and her ties to me are stronger than my father's. Once, many years ago, I was part of her loving flesh. How could such a warm woman give birth to such a heartless child? That is why I am here, so I do not have to remind them of the monster that shares their blood. The daughter of the gods has a son who is the devil. The irony seems to escape them.

In two days time the boat sets sail for Corus, I hope to meet you at the dock. I await seeing you, you whom I could not live without. You, whose affections are so dear to me.

Sincerely,

Sarran

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Dear Sarran,

Butterflies are beautiful, I too wish to hurt them sometimes. That is why I took up the sword, so I wouldn't have to hurt beautiful things. I am not supposed to hurt something beautiful or delicate or weak. I swore by oath seven years ago, but even I was sorely tempted. How innocent they are, would they know what it means to die? Could they comprehend their death as it happened? That second before the butterfly dies, do they realize they aren't going to exist anymore? If I was about to die, would I understand my death? Although I might be able to use a weapon that could bring my death, I cannot accept my death.

Can you understand your death, though you kill so easily? Perhaps you can, you faced loneliness all your life. You escape crowds and stay at the back, a ghost and a shadow. Can you comprehend death? Are you already dead?

Remember, if you want to dance with me, you too will be paid attention to. I am not going to sit in the shadows. If you value my affections so dearly, you won't sit in the shadows and watch me dance with so many other men. I want to be in your arms more than anyone's.

Until I see you on the docks, I will think of you.

Truly,

Reiana

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Dear Reiana,

Can I understand death? Am I already dead? I am so weak; I might as well be dead. I have not the strength to neither leave the shadows nor dance alone. In your arms, I could leave my shadows. Tonight, in your arms I could do anything. You are my backbone and my strength. I need you like I need water or food. You are the only person in this world that can look at me and you are the only person I can trust. Without you, would I continue to live? If a butterfly's life was so easy to take, would mine be any harder?

As I write, I near the harbor. Why I continue to write, I do not know.

Sincerely,

Sarran

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Laden with bags, a young man walks down the ramp from the boat onto the harbor. A girl follows him, often falling over her own feet onto the male. On land, the man looks around him while another girl walks up to him. Decked out in a dress nearly ornate enough for a ball, she awaits the man's attention. Finally noticing the girl, he drops all of his bags.

She smiles and grabs his face. Without blinking, she kisses him until he puts his arms around her lank body. "You're tall, like a boy," he gasps. Keeping her eyes down, she ran her fingers through his long black hair.

"Your hair is long, like a girl," she pants. When she looks up again, she presses her lips against his again. "It's my first kiss, Sarran. It's yours too." Picking up half his bags, she leads him up to the palace. Need seems to hover over both of them, need to feel each other's touch, need to help each other, need to rely on each other. When they walk down the shaded avenues towards the palace, they intentionally run into each other. Wind whip their hair and sun beats down on their heads. Carrying Sarran's and his female travel partner's baggage is hard work, the whole trip was uphill. In their minds they remind themselves that this wouldn't help them accept death. Every few minutes they stop. Wordlessly they trudge up to the palace. They don't need words they just need each other's company.

Reaching Sarran's parents apartment, the girl drop off his bags and left him alone with the girl he came with.

"Is this the girl you liked?" someone asks him from inside the apartment. By the time all of his bags were inside the apartment, his father is already talking with his female traveling partner.

"No, I need Reiana," Sarran says.

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Although I boasted I could do anything in Reiana's arms, I was lying. I cannot leave the shadows to be in her arms. Instead I watch her dance every dance with a different partner, each enamored of her beauty, wit and grace. She smiles at the right times and wears enough jewels to put most duchesses to shame. It is obvious to everyone that she is the most beautiful woman on the floor. When let down, her wavy hair falls to her knees, a chocolate river down her emerald dress.

At the end of a few dances she comes to me. Her, my savior, my hero, my strength. She is the reason why I continue to live and when I am enveloped in her scent, I can forget about everything. In her arms, I am her hero, I am the key to her cage, I am her savior. I can open the door to her secrets and she dances with emotions she did not have when she danced with another. Reiana needs me, like I need her. We dance like our steps are set in stone, and this is our vows to each other. My hand wavers on her back, and I long to touch more of her than that. I need to touch her, to feel the life within her, to know that she is alive and so am I. If she was not alive, I would not be either. If she was not my partner, I would be in the shadows, dead.

Without her, any life would be meaningless. All life would be worthless and stupid. Seven years ago I took no vows not to hurt; seven years ago I was abandoned by my parents whose flesh I emerged from. My father can find another to take my place and take his place later. He does not want a demon to have his blood. It was his blood that made this demon and the gods' blood that runs through me like liquid heat. My father, the mage, my mother, and me, the demon. Does that make a good family?

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With his eyes hungering after me, do I really want them to? I talk big and I need him like I never needed anything. I need him to lick my wounds and to unlock my emotions and to give me a reason to live. I need to feel his touch on my bare skin; I need to feel the heat of his life on my own. I need him to need me. Can he need me like I need him to? Will he need me later, after he learns? Sarran holds the key to my secrets, he could know if he wanted to. When I hunger for his touch like he hungers for mine, that secret will be his too. Will he need me then?

I fight his demons and he opens up my emotions. It is mutually beneficial. Why should it matter that I like dresses instead of breeches? In the end, no ones' feelings change. I will always need him and always hunger for his touch.

When the dance ends, we escape to the balcony and the gardens. As soon as we are out of site, he puts his hands on my cheeks. This time, it is he who kisses first. From his mouth I can tell he needs more than a simple kiss, his lips dig into my mouth needing more. His hands search my body for the clasps that hold my dress on my body. When he starts unbuttoning my dress, I step away. I too hunger for his touch, his hands on my bare skin, the reminder of another life, the heat of living. Not yet, though. I cannot let myself satisfy my needs.

"Reiana?" he asks, hurt. When tears form in his eyes, I lick them off.

"Not yet," I say though I know it's not true. Now is the perfect time. Now will always be the perfect time, I will always need him. But I am tall, like a boy.