Dear Marushka,
I write this to you specifically though it is rather unorthodox in that I have written it within my personal journal. We have a custom in Faerun when people are to be wed that involve an exchanging on rings. I have not such a thing on my person, and we have not the time to go find some, given that even now we potentially ride to our deaths. Instead, I wanted to give you this journal as a token of my love. I find it easier by far to write my feelings to parchment than say them aloud, which I’m sure you’re aware of by now. For whatever degree of “nobility” my family’s name may carry back in Faerun, I’m glad at the least that I was taught properly to write as a child. The quill is ever so much more talkative than lips, I find. Mine own, at least.
I dedicate this journal to you as a symbol of my love. A chronicle of my time here in Barovia, and all the events that led me to you. The way we seemed to argue and bicker when we first met seems so long ago to me now, but my heart feels only the now. All the things I’ve not spoken aloud since we met are written here for you to read, and I hope in the time that comes we can look fondly back upon these pages and remember not that which we have lost since my arrival, but that which we have gained. While considered a curse to be trapped here, I call a blessing. A blessing tempered by the cruelest nightmare and devilry the world has ever known.
Your excitement in the closing of Sergei and Tatyana’s story spoke volumes, and I hope to prove to you that such a love it not just the stuff of stories and legends. I know not what fate awaits beyond the day of this writing, but I know that whatever it shall be, we shall endure and experience it together. I know I’m not much of bardic material, and my eloquence with the quill is far surpassed by your own, so allow me to finally just state this plainly. I love you, Marushka Dragomir.
Forever yours,
Trevor Belmont