Disclaimer and Notes-I will never own any of the characters in this story, so don't even bother with the lawyers or lawsuits. Everyone belongs to his or her respective owners, producers, voice actors, and other such people who are associated with Anubis, Dais, Cale, and Sekhmet. This story was looked over by my friend, Alexa…many thanks to her for being my beta reader!
Autumn Memo
Isabel Night
Dear Anubis,
Summer is almost over for those of us who live inside the Nether Realm, and with autumn about ready to put on her multicolored kimono, there should be a good harvest…and a day of celebration. However, instead of celebrating, I have become very worried for and about the peasants who live and work on farms outside the capital city. About four weeks ago the Nether Realm suffered through several storms that have caused major flood damage in and around the rice paddies. I fear that with most of the harvest swept away by the storms, as well as this realm's inability to utilize mortal technology, that this will be only the beginning of a very harsh and unforgiving winter. For several days I have prayed to the Kami who guard the rice patties to bless us with enough rice to eat, but all my prayers feel like a empty ritual that I must perform…but do not believe in. I have never considered myself a very religious man, and now I fear that this situation is not a mishap of the weather, but a punishment sent down to plague my people at the behest of my murdered victims.
I know that I am a mass murderer…I will not lie to you or anyone else as I write down these words. Many despised mortal dictators have been known to have something the mortals call "a huge body count," but they have not killed repeatedly for over 400 years. In fact, most mortals rarely live to see 100 years old. However, unlike most mortals, I am not a hypocrite…and I will not say that these murders were done for a higher or greater good. I will not dance around the subject by saying that what I did was excusable; my victims have every right to accuse me when I must stand before the Judge of Hell to give an account of life. Even now, almost 200 to 400 years after their deaths, my victims still have every right to take out their vengeance on the remaining three Warlords. I can accept the consequences…I made the choice to kill, and I must deal with that choice all my life, but that doesn't mean that innocent people should be dragged into a personal vendetta that they had nothing to do with. I'm not saying that I shouldn't be punished for what I did; I'm just saying that the average farmer in the Nether Realm should not suffer for something he or she had no say in.
Now that the war is over…and peace has been restored, I've often wondered if your death was vengeance, a form of justice, or a sign of forgiveness. I still don't know what possessed you to do that final act, but I know it must have been a long and hard decision. You didn't decide on a whim just to save us, deep down inside, you must have cared for us a great deal. I wish I could try to pay you back for that selfless act, but as of right now…there is no possible way to do so. I know that this may sound corny coming from me, but maybe, just maybe, when our victims are ready to forgive us, and all of us have finally realized what big fools we were for serving Talpa, then maybe we will see each other again. I hope that this day of enlightenment comes soon…because all three of us miss you.
I will have to stop writing soon, Cale wants me to ride with him so that we check the extent of the damage left by the all the storms. I hope to place this letter on your grave when the golden-colored sky is free of all the water-laden clouds, and the autumn wind starts to blow a cool refreshing breeze. Until then, rest in peace.
Respectfully Yours,
Sekhmet
THE END
