How have you been? Last time we spoke at the Estate you seemed a little … off. Morose, down. Believe it or not, I worry about you. I’ll not ever forget that time, so many months ago when I found you out in the Ghostlands, and I’m not sure what I would do should something like that happen again. You see, this world would just not be the same without you in it, my world, too. You were the first to speak with me, to be my friend when I returned to the city what seems like forever ago now. We joined the Order together, and we both know how pivotal a moment that was, at least for me. You too, I’m supposing, now you’re back (where you should be).
Why am I writing? I’m not sure to be perfectly honest. I mean, more than anything I just wanted to know how you are. I meant to return to the Estate sooner than I have been able, especially after we talked about taking a trip, a trip to get away, to relax, to explore, to do something different or new away from the sometimes burdensome responsibilities of our daily lives. But I was delayed. Would you believe, that ironically I ended up on a ship? And it was an … experience to say the least. Not entirely a good one, let me tell you. But that is a story that is better told in person.
I’ve settled for now, and staying not entirely too far from the Estate. I can be there, or in the City at any time should you wish to talk. It’s been too long, again.
Before I sign off here completely, I wanted to share something with you that my sister told me recently. Admittedly I discarded it at first, but I believe she is right, as was our Father when he passed it on.
We are not given a life that we are not strong enough to live.
Am I telling you that because I’m now all of a sudden happy, and healed, and ready to move on and face the rest of my days with a brighter outlook? That I now believe that our days will not be filled with more tragedy, loss and misfortune? No, I’m telling you because I know that you are a survivor, Fel. That much you and I have in common. And it takes a special soul to be just that. We’ll live. We have no other choice, but we’ll still do it better and with more backbone than everybody else because we’re stronger than they are, mentally. Physical strength be damned. Who else could have lived through what you and I have and come out the other side still semi-sane?
I hope this letter finds you well.