A reply from Glykon Creed

The Stars in My Sky,

I have been sick with woe wondering after you. You do not know how difficult it has been to wait for word of your condition. Even your sister has come home from Armada Cove, and she had been on a ship. A ship, my stars. Do you know how much effort that must have taken for her to get them to take her back to shore? Or to find someone who would be willing to? My point is that we are all worried about you, when before I only had your dad to worry about.


You must not continue to pursue this mission of yours. You have no idea what the Viscount is capable of. If he specifically wants to avoid involving me, then you need to fly from there on the swiftest of wings. I can meet you at the border and we will return home together, but you must not go after him. I can’t lose you both.

[The next line starts further down, owing to water spots on the page telling of tears.]
I know you are every inch my and your dad’s child, and that you are likely to refuse me. If that is the path you decide to travel, then promise you will keep yourself safe, that you will stick close to your cousins, and that you will never be afraid to turn around and return to safety if you find the fight too overwhelming. That’s a lesson I nearly learned too late. It almost cost your life then. Don’t let it do the same now.

Be clever. Be kind when you can. Be decisive and deadly when you cannot.

[The bottom of the page is adorned with a drawing of half a heart, though it is not a straight cut down the middle, or the jagged edges of a break; rather, its edges are soft and clean, like it’s part of a puzzle with only two pieces, and its missing its other half.]