Isolation
By: Modern Lady Knight
There was a time, in her younger days, when she'd had so much more patience. She missed those times now as she sat before the writing desk long into the night. Taking a deep breath she glanced up, removing her quill from parchment, to look out the uncovered window above her desk. The nighttime view of the town, which had grown nearly a decade around the building in which she sat, was a calming view. A few twinkling lanterns lit the streets as a few of the town militia patrolled the streets. This close to the boarder it was still necessary to be on their toes. Her attention was drawn back to her task at hand by the mild ache in her back, she'd been hunched over this desk far too long today.
The letter was finished, and yet it didn't feel as if it were. After all, this was the fifth version she had written just this evening. She groaned to herself, an action she once wouldn't have allowed to slip, as she sat back in her chair. The lady knight was nothing if not realistic, if this letter sat on her desk any longer it would join the other twelve she had written to the young man who was like a son to her. Her hand itched to open the bottom drawer of her desk, add it to the collection of unsent messages. It was simple, the older and supposedly wiser she grew, the less often she could bring herself act as she once had. She was not Neal, who wrote to her four pages a month just about his young daughter. She was not Dom, who managed send her polite, careful letters that reflected what she perceived to be his view of her now. She certainly was not Tobe, with his quickly written paragraphs that seemed to jump off the page with his current excitement.
Kel was tired, and that was why she had returned to New Hope again. As the wind howled past the office windows she reflected on how things had changed, how the old regrets were coming to haunt her. She'd not trade her shield, or the village her people had built for anything in this world or the next, but she was lonely. She ran a hand through her hair, seeing a weakness in herself she'd never expected. Her friends had found happiness, she did not begrudge them. . . She simply had found no such solace herself in this life. She had begun working until she was exhausted, not because it was needed but because he mind could not rest when she slept. Her dreams were filled with bloody battles, the stern reprimands of Wyldon of Cavall, Lord Raoul's voice shouting urgent orders to his men, Domitan of Masbolle disappearing around a corner, Tobe riding away. . .It always felt real, and it always felt as if she needed to do something quickly. She'd wake, confused and sitting up in her bed.
No, Keladry of Mindelan, Lady Knight that presided over New Hope, found no solace from her own mind. Not for the first time she wondered if it was best not to answer the letters she received. Better not to burden her friends with her own restless mind and lonely soul. Was she stronger to pull into herself, to need no one? Or was it stronger to reach out for the love of those she'd known for so long? For now, as she rose felt her spine crack slightly, she would remain alone. Adrift in her own inner turmoil, as little a burden as was possible.
The guard called that all was well as the lamp in Keladry's office was blown out. In an hours time the sky would be bright enough to light the room itself, after all.