-IS 540-
Commander Schvarzeleber,
He has gone into hiding. For all intents and purposes barring your ruining everything, he is dead. As it was never really safe to have this epistolary extant in the first place, I cannot lie and assert that it is so now, but I am confident that our reinstating correspondence will no longer pose an explicit risk to either of our countries at this point.
I miss you, friend.
I saw you, you know. You might know. At the first attempt at negotiations. I wasn't supposed to be there either, I will not begrudge your not revealing yourself and hiding yourself in your own ranks. I did the same. There is a certain convenience to Orosi that we mean to exploit as the years go on, you see. He did not fool Geddoe, for which my face is very thankful, but he has fooled several others, and the distinctions between us will only blur with time and practice to everyone but you.
The world we knew is dead, Futch. I am certain that I have had a part in killing it.
Because of the scars that Geddoe left on Orosi's person, Orosi and I have discussed taking to ceremonial masks, as Our Divine Father has long done. While the convenience of the idea resonates within me in a pleasant fashion, I cannot help but take ill at the idea. Nay, trees no longer wither in my path at the thought, but the grass crunches under my feet and it is always winter. Always, always winter. Always dry and what passes for a spring these years is fleeting and grey.
You have seen the grey world, Futch, you know what I fear...but I sense that the more I fear it the nearer it creeps. What I feel...has power unbidden, you know as much as I, and no amount of divine inspiration will lend me the words to articulate the degree to which my own apprehensions have driven me to despair. I can only tell you what falls in my wake, Futch, the death of my students to old age, the barren, cold-grounded gardens, the throbbing in what is left of my left hand whenever I hear thunder overhead--have you any idea how taxing it was, campaigning in Iluya, even before Geddoe caught up with our entourage? Twixt fighting a war and having lost your faith in me I am surprised that Lord Silverberg did not let his demon loose on me and take Our Rune for his.
There were nights when I would have let him have it, and welcome, if just to be dead. My body has never been mine, and now here I am, becoming my rituals. Those who serve me are marking their left hands and leaving their rights ungloved. There have been sixty plays and lord knows how many ballads writ about my brother and our story, though the hard facts of what incited the quarrel are known to few, and half as many about the second Grassland incident and Orosi. Every day is a struggle to live up to myself at the same time as defy the poets, to retain what little autonomy I possess.
I am losing my mind.
Come to Harmonia, Futch. Before I put on one of those saprogenic heaven-forsaken masks, come to Harmonia.
We pray for your continued prosperity and the health and well-being of those you hold dear, and that We are included in that number.
-Sasarai
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Sasarai-
I am standing about sixty miles outside the Valley. Standing, not sitting. They won't let me sit.
I'm stuck only because the gryphon-riders threatened to blast me and Bright out of the sky if we didn't comply. They said it would be considered an act of war if I entered the Holy Harmonian Empire on the back of a dragon. I told them I'd fly dangling from his talons if I had to. They weren't amused. You need to hire border guards with senses of humor. Or not. I commend your security measures, just not as they relate to me.
Of course I can't rightly tell them that I'm the Archbishop's knight in shining armor--which reminds me, when in the Hell did you become an Archbishop?--so I'm hanging around here with my gloves on trying to secure sleeping arrangements for the night that don't involve me freezing my ass off. You're right about the weather.
I guess it serves me right for not setting up a whole ordeal and a visit of state and all that, but I didn't think that was what you meant when you told me to come to Harmonia. I've flown for two days since getting your letter, wasn't sure when you sent it.
Let Slate crash if you have to, she'll be able to tell her brother where to find me.
-Futch
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To Dragon Knight Errant-
Show Our guards the seal on this letter and take their names. Following that, do whatever else you require. We pray for your safe journey and that you find Our country hospitable.
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Lightweight-
This is one of those, "If you are reading this I've stolen away for fear of my life" notes. And it's a message-in-a-bottle. Now, usually the person who is lost sends them, not the rescuer, but I figured it's the one place where you'd look and Orosi wouldn't.
For the record, no, you didn't get drunk and imagine that I showed up, I actually showed up and then you got drunk. You passed out at about sunrise. Someone's going to come and wake you up soon. Whatever it is, I hope you rest instead of going. By the time I thought to ask you what you were trying to forget, you were too sloshed to answer.
I'd forgotten how small you could be. You probably know what I mean, but when you're speaking for your army and your ideals and Your Divine Father you're really quite large. And it's not the hat that does it to you either. I'm sure you know what I mean, if I do, and I'm not the smart one. It was true fifty years ago and it's true now too, your arms are too small to reach what you're clamoring for.
It's true for me too. I think you know that now. I've got hundreds of powerful things at my back and I'm weaker than you. You live on despite the things that haunt you and drain you, and by live on I don't just mean "continue to listen to that thing in your hand". You actually live and teach and yes, you also muster armies against defenseless island chains, but you're up and doing what your heart tells you is right despite all the stormclouds in your head.
And about those stormclouds--maybe if you smiled once in a while, your country wouldn't have to import so much grain and could lower the taxes. Maybe I shouldn't say it, but it has a chance of making you laugh that I'm willing to take. It's so bright this morning, on the other side of that haze. It's hangover weather now, really--it remembered what a good night it had but was still foggy and wistful. I was never really aware of just how much your emotions were tied to your Rune, even though I have the same problem...it really is humbling, and now that I know another way to keep tabs on you damned if I won't be reading between your lines.
When you showed me the mask I wanted to burn it. I still do. But I understand why you're taking it up, and I won't stop you if you decide to bend to that. How could I? Hell, maybe I should be flattered that pretty soon I'll be one of very few people alive to have seen your face.
This may be my own hangover talking, but I actually think your face only comes out when you're asleep. Even when you're drunk there's an agenda in your eyes. "Tell me I exist," you said. "Tell me I am." I did. This is in case you didn't believe me.
You are, Sasarai. I think by asking that question you proved it. And while I've enjoyed the company of my share of dreams and delusions and other things that aren't real, you're none of them. You're a living, breathing, feeling person and once you get that into your head it'll kick your hangover's ass.
I'm going to seal this thing up before someone tries to wake you. See you when I see you.
-Futch
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Futch-
It will be a long time before anyone sees me.
I thank you, my friend, for your visit and kind words in my time of need, from the bottom of my heart. The mask will cover a visage broken and marred, but not quite destroyed.
-Sasarai
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