Chapter 19: Letters from Deeper Aranoch
My dearest cousin,
I find myself in rather a peculiar situation. As of now, we have entered into the sandy storms of Aranoch—I cannot miss you more. Aranoch is unforgiving thus far. Scorching hot sunlight, day in and day out parches our lips and dries the sweat from our skins. The nights are much the same—but where the mornings are hot and damp, the nights are cold, windy, and dry.
But I deviate.
I write, hoping to find you, and all within the monastery in the best of spirits. It has been two weeks since we exited your company—and I shall be glad of any news regarding your sisterhood.
You cannot imagine just how much I desire your advice as of now. You may recall, before we parted, that I was somewhat surprised that Cordelia had chosen, at all, to accompany us eastwards into Lut Gholein. But I had not the knowledge, just then, of how much she desired not to come. I know now—she has been naught but miserable the entire journey. She barely smiles. I worry for her, cousin. I worry greatly for her.
At such a time, Deckard Cain proves, as he has numerous times, that he is, though a worthy and most important companion, exceptionally annoying at the worst of times. I have myself surpressed on several occasions the desire to knock him senseless. Cordelia, gloomy as she is, suffers the same. Only Warriv seems ever ready to accept his advice and words—but then again, Warriv is probably of the same stuff as Cain is. I cannot wait for the journey to end—though Cordelia seems to dread it. I cannot quite understand why. Perhaps you could help?
Do take care, and keep safe. Bright sun to you, my dearest cousin.
Most dearly,
Your cousin, Saul.
Cousin Saul,
How wonderful it is to hear from you at last! You are lax in writing, cousin. How I have missed you, also!
I do hope that the desert does not take its toll on you, cousin dear. It is a dangerous road to take—Aranoch is much less travelled and explored, than our very own Entsteig. We have heard news of demon patrols within the desert sands—do be careful. If ever you run short of water, remember that beneath every living thing lies an oasis—small, perhaps, but proving extremely useful in difficult situations. I am sorry, also, to hear that Deckard Cain is causing you much trouble. If I may be frank, I shall say, now, that I have never much liked him myself. I tell you this in confidence—if you leak my words to him, I shall roast you.
Akara has asked after you. She wishes you well and healthy, as she does Cordelia and the others.
Kashya, also, has asked after the both of you. But she seemed less than likely to bite. Perhaps you should expect a note from her soon. But for the love of God, Saul, try not to reduce her to tears again! She has cried twelve days of the fourteen you've been gone. And yes, I say that to induce in you some sort of guilt, though I doubt my words have done their job.
About Cordelia, however—I must ask you not to worry. Lut Gholein is a new environment, after all. You must remember how she was when first she came upon our doorstep? She barely spoke—barely met your eye. It is probably nothing. And as to the gloomy demeanor in which she now holds herself, I attribute it to the fact that she is wearied and sickened by the dry, humid air of the desert. I have never yet met a woman who would enjoy sweating in the sun.
By the way, you should know that your hawk-demon pecks. Gheed was quite distraught after she nipped him several times on the head, but we managed to calm him down with ale and pipeweed. And don't you dare defend her—you know very well how nasty she can be.
With love,
Charsi.
Master Vyreant,
I have written to Deckard Cain, and he declares himself sound. Therefore, I shall assume that all goes well within your caravan. That, indeed, is good news.
I write to warn you of the stirring evil within Lut Gholein. You may have heard from Charsi that the sands of Aranoch are tainted with the minions of hell. I have long suspected that the defeat of Andariel within the monastery was but a mere beginning to the darkness that is sure to come. We are certain—hell must be stopped before all is lost. There will be others who walk your path, Saul—I am well sure of that. You are not alone, for Cordelia is with you. Others will come to your aid when the need arises. Do not fear, and stand steadfast. I know your chosen path, and I know you will tread in footsteps of glory in later days. Make us proud.
May safe winds find you, young master.
Yours,
Akara.
Darling Tomei,
I hope this note finds you safe and happy. Many years have passed since last we spoke—and this, I suppose, can hardly equal a good, long talk. I have missed your face, and your voice—and all of your being. I am sorry to have missed your sixteenth birthday. It is an important age, my darling sister. A year ago, you were a child. But I have little doubt that you are grown, now, into a fine young lady.
Perhaps you might find this an interesting thing; I met a girl. Her name is Cordelia. I'm quite sure you'd like her. She's very much like you, in so many ways. She smiles a lot, and laughs a lot. But at the same time, there seems to be so much within her head and heart—but she does not speak her mind. In that sense, as well, darling Tomei, she is a perfect mirror of yourself. She desires the world to ignore her pain, whilst she, herself, darts to and from person, soothing their troubles, and neglecting her own. But perhaps she enjoys her bubble of denial. What do I know, after all? I am but a man.
And more often than not, men do not understand the woes of women, as Lorelei is accustomed to reminding me.
I write, now, because I miss you more than ever at present. Perhaps Charsi has written to you; I travel now through the sands of Aranoch. Cordelia rides beside me; and we are accompanied, also, by two men—one rather odd, and the other, devastatingly annoying. You, my little sparrow, would have made sound work of him with that piercing tongue of yours. I wish you were here.
Do write back. And give my love to your sisters, and to our mam and da.
Your loving brother,
Saul.
Tomy—I should mention, also, that my messenger hawk pecks. Handle her with care; but if she causes you pain, threaten her with sticks and stones. That should amuse her, somewhat.
Mother, father—
You shall be, I wager, undoubtedly glad of my news. I ride, now, to Lut Gholein; and ere the week is over, I shall arrive upon the gates of the Jewel City. Your plans for my life have begun to unravel. Sleep shall no longer elude you—I submit myself to your wills. I accept your commands.
I accept the promise you have made on my behalf.
Your pawn, bargaining chip, and daughter;
Cordelia.
My dearest daughter,
I pray long and hard this script reaches your hands. I pray you are safe and sound. I should be glad to hear of you, my darling—but you have not written; not once, since you left us over five months ago. I must ask that you answer, however briefly, this script—your father and I are not inclined to wait. If no word arrives, we shall come in search of you; and that shall be a storm indeed.
Ellie darling, I grow weary of your games. We are concerned for you, your father and I—but if we are to smoothen the wrinkles of our problems, we must first be on speaking terms. You left in such a hurry—and whilst I understand that it was of utmost importance to aid the sisterhood in their time of need, it is also of utmost importance to first inform your family of your departure. You cannot possibly imagine the amount of fear and anxiety you have caused amidst your father and sisters. As for me, what I felt—and what I still feel, is beyond the borders of anxiety. Worry is too simple a word to describe the pain in my stomach.
We shall meet in Lut Gholein. News has reached us, no thanks to you, of the demoness Andariel's demise. No doubt you had a hand in it—and it is all very well. The threat is subdued; you may, and you should return to your family. There is no question of that.
I shall expect word from you within a fortnight. Do not disappoint me.
Your loving mother,
Arlene of the Medjai.
Star,
Theoretically, if mother and father were to attempt to force you to do something you were loathe to do—and I mean, theoretically—would you? Would you adhere to their wishes and demands, and sacrifice your own happiness along the way? I know Asha wouldn't—she is much too self-centered to do anything of the sort. I am nothing like you, but I would very much like to hear your opinion on this.
Send my love to our mother and father. I did write them a letter—but I haven't the heart, nor the spirit to send it. It lies packed beneath my clothes' trunk now. I shall burn it soon.
Your youngest sister,
Cordelia Elisse.
Ellie,
Don't be stupid. Mother and father would never dream of forcing me to do anything I didn't want to. It's you they'd bully,
As harsh as that sounds, you can, as always, count on me—it is the truth. Mother and father both love you dearly, but you, amongst your sisters, are the exact quintessence of obedience. They know me to be cool and distant—and unforgiving. Asha, on the other hand, would not stand for such treatment. Her royal highness is most accustomed to having things her own way—and father allows it; you know how he dotes on her.
You may want to be careful, though. Asha seems somewhat cheerful as of late. It really is quite obvious that she's planning something—and if it does not harm me, it will harm you. You best ensure that you have a giant, muscular shield of a man to protect you from your eldest sister. She can be quite the gargoyle—but only I'm allowed to say it, because I have to live with her, and therefore put up with her.
Take care, and try not to die on the battlefield. Mother will be distraught, and I'd have to comfort her then. I've got better things to do.
And write them a short note, for God's sake. At the very least, it will keep them quiet.
Your sister,
Estarra.
Mother, father—
—I ride now to Lut Gholein. Expect my company within a fortnight or so.
Your daughter,
Cordelia.
Author's Note: Yay! Finally, I can toss the Entsteig leg of this fic, and move on to Lut Gholein! This chapter was written mostly at work on my lappietop, so there might be inconsistensies here and there. But for the most part, I actually enjoyed writing this chapter, because letters are so darn easy to do. XD Besides, I thought you all might like to see the other side of our characters' lives. Saul has siblings—you guys know about them. And now Cordelia's family life is revealed, too! There's more to come—juicy, juicy bits of her life. Teehee!
Anyways, I'd like to thank Ophelion, and skopde for the kind reviews! I'm sorry for the long wait.
Keep your eyes peeled for chapter twenty, entitled, "The Promise", which will come, hopefully, soon! Until then, keep reading, and keep reviewing, because there's no writer like a review-happy writer! Thank you again!