Light dances and flickers, caressing Meira's soft features and the room beyond. Earthen tones dominate this small, simple living space and the aromas from the Wild Surge Inn’s kitchen sneak past the locked door.
It is late and the covers on the bed are turned down. Meira sits at the petite corner desk staring at a blank sheet of paper, a look of anguish spread over her face. In one hand she holds a quill, poised and ready. Her other hand rests with her palm partially on the desk’s edge as she thoughtlessly claws at its side. A small quantity of wood shavings gathers on the floor below.
With a sigh of resignation she brushes her hair behind her right ear and begins to write.
[INDENT]Dear Father,
You can not imagine how much I miss you, how desperately I crave to hear your voice calling my name. I pray that you are with Aragen but I yearn to have you here with me.
[/INDENT] *lips quiver as her eyes fill with tears*
[INDENT] All of my books are gone and they have Orcs here father, freely wandering the streets. I can’t look upon them without living it all over again; without seeing mother fall to the floor in an ocean of blood.
[/INDENT] Several tears fall onto the paper, staining it and smudging the word blood. A mixture of grief and rage gather in the pit of her stomach. The familiar tingling sensation spreads across her skin and her hair begins rise. She promptly drops the Quill and closes her eyes.
Inhaling through her nose she silently traces the mantras, taught to her by her father, as she allows the breath to slowly escape from between her lips. That was close. She repeats these actions for several minutes until she feels the relaxed. Then, with a tranquil demeanor, she gathers the quill and returns to writing.
[INDENT] I guess all is not as bad as it seems, though. The people here have proven to be much more accepting. In a thousand years you would not guess the name of the first person I met. Ozymandius! A legend, I can only guess at his age though he looks just like my books described him. Well, maybe he’s not as tall as they said and I didn’t actually observe lightning shooting from his eyes. I think that was a gross exaggeration but his blood is mingled with fiendish ancestry; just like mine. Well, I don’t think he had the benefit of your wisdom growing up. He can be a bit intimidating. His behavior is strange but he demonstrated great kindness in mending my wounds after I ran from the sewers trying to collect a rat pelt for a local crafter. I was famished and needed to earn some coin.
I can not begin to describe how exciting it was. He entertained me from dusk to dawn with his telling of how they stormed the temple of Corath, fought his avatar Arkanor on the Negative plane itself and still triumphed in the end. The traps laid for them were many. I feigned ignorance for I did not wish to dissuade his telling of the tale. I know, doing so is no better than a lie but I could not help myself. I could have listened to his tales till I fell from exhaustion. They were a great deal more vivid than my books. In the end he had to depart but affirmed that he would tell me more.
After Ozymandius left.. I still can’t believe it! My mind spins in reflection of who else I might meet!
Well, after he departed I cautiously returned to the sewers to test a theory. The rats there are crazed and overly aggressive. I waited and kept out of sight till there was just one and then focused all of my thoughts on the rat and the day mother died. My anger seems to fuel it. I reached out with my hand and a short stream of crackling energy leapt from my fingers and cooked it right there… I know, it’s reckless and dangerous but the meditations and breathing seem to be keeping it in check.
[/INDENT] Several days later, holed up in the same room Meira stares at the paper again. This time she half smiles and bites her lip. She wears a long, dark blue cotton sleeping gown and finishes braiding her hair before retrieving her quill.
[INDENT] Well, I’ve met a great many people here in Hlint.. I wish I could name them all. I’m so terrible when it come to names… Everything happened so fast. First we adventured down into the sewers to retrieve a book for the lady that keeps record of the coin and fought a man-rat thing. That wasn’t nearly as scary as standing in the middle of town with everyone chatting and asking who I was… They were all very nice, mind you, but I just have such difficulty negotiating large groups. Were it not for Sabrissia I may have fled, like the time we went to market at midday. I couldn’t breathe but she kept reassuring me and let me stay close to her.
Sabrissia is a wizard of some accomplishment. She’s truly beautiful and very powerful. When we traveled the crypts of Hlint to assist Egar, the keeper of the graveyard, she commanded a conjured mastiff the size of which I have never seen before. I would certainly not wish to be the one to provoke her ire. Oh, and Renji came along too. He’s very skilled with his weapons and he’s always trying to sneak around. Though, from the way that Sabrissia teases him I think he follows a lot of ladies down into crypts and dungeons.
Sabrissia introduced me to so many people. I can’t begin to describe them all. And, I don’t feel quite so out-of-place anymore.. It’s very overwhelming to be so excited and yet sad at the same time.
[/INDENT] [INDENT] I still miss you very much… and I want to make you proud. I know how much you wished I could someday join the Bearers of Knowledge too. I saw it in your eyes.
[/INDENT] *tears stream down her face*
[INDENT] I love you. I hope, somehow, that you can read these writings father…
[/INDENT] With that Meira wipes her face on her cotton gown, places the paper carefully among the pages of an untitled tome, wraps that in soft leather and ties it with a bit of cord. Taking hold of a pillow she walks over, eyes still glistening with tears, and gently blows out the candle.
