Letter to Brother

Written by DarkTsuyoi

It was the hottest time of the day. The sun had climbed to its heights and would stay there for too long, exhausting the land and its people. But the light was also nurturing, as without the light the shadows would engulf everything. A sound of high-pitched screech alarmed him, and a short moment later a reddish-brown hawk landed on the windowsill. It stared at its owner with intelligent look in its eyes, until the man slowly came to and straightened his back, withdrawing back to his own mind and senses. Using the hawk’s eyes was always slightly disorienting. He let out a quiet sigh when his thoughts were interrupted with a knock on the door.

A middle-aged woman stepped in. She had dressed in beautiful shade of aquamarine, which suited her bronze skin tone well. Her almond-shaped, hazel-coloured eyes had a soft look in them, when she glanced at the man. Carefully she placed the tray on the side table and began to serve some tea from delicate teacups which had silvery cup holders.

”I brought you some tea, dear husband.”
”Thank you, Leliah.”
His words were tender when she reached for her hand, which had just set the first cup on the table. He placed a gentle kiss on her hand and pressed it lovingly against his cheek. She chuckled, in that very girlish way which had always reminded him of the colorful birds in their palace’s garden.
“What has gone into you? Are you writing a love letter to someone else?”
“Bold words, but she knew she had the freedom to express herself in this way in private. If someone else would have been present, she could have lost her head over it. But she knew her husband would never do such thing, not after so many happy, fulfilling years. He was not someone to lose his cool over such a thing.
“Ah, no, not a love letter. Just writing to an old friend of mine.”
“To the Silvery Island, again?”
“Indeed.”
“In that case, I will take my leave. But remember that Sheik Akhdar wished to see you in the evening, dear husband.”
“Thank you, Leliah. I will. If I won’t, please don’t come and get me.”

They both laughed, as they knew how annoying the sheik in question could be, asking audiences all the time for most ridiculous reasons, just to be able to complain about his life and competitors. She knew her husband liked to use any excuse he could come up with to refuse or postpone such meetings.

Leliah let her hand caress his shoulder, before she tiptoed away, leaving her husband with a fresh cup of mint tea, brewed in the way he liked it the most. Strong, aromatic and refreshing at the same time. He took a deep breath, breathing in the lovely, comforting scent before he continued writing his letter.

In Rafibar, 3rd of February, year 4047 in The Age of Scars

Dear divine brother,

I hope you have been well, and the gods have been pleasant to you and your friends. Life here in your homeland has been as calm as one could hope, apart from occasional squabble, as one could only expect. Some tension has been brewing in the minds of certain people and I’m looking into it, as it is my duty to appease those who come to seek the aid of our deity.

I will have the honour to hold the initiation for four new acolytes next week, which I am very happy about. They are promising young students, and each and every one of them has already heard the call of Mystra. They might not be many, but they are the seed for a better future. During the years they will grow and blossom, I am sure of it. We are still very far away from the great years of prosperity, but slow and steady wins the race. It is better this way, trust me.

And it seems to finally have happened! Remember the priestess Mahvash? Yes, the one who never really liked us. She has finally come around and taken her share of the annual provisions given to the main temple. For more than 30 years she has disliked me, even despised me after I became the high priest. And now, finally, she has admitted her defeat. I would offer to pour you a toast if you were here but let us toast over the distance for such a joyful occasion!

There has also been some talk about me taking another girl to warm the bed at night -Leliah has been bringing up the topic again, as usually happens when the anniversary of our little Sheriin’s passing draws closer. I have tried my best to console her, but when the longing has turned bittersweet it is even more difficult to ease her sadness. We still miss her, and every time I look on the evening sky and see the stars above, I wish that she is somewhere safe. And my answer to my wife’s hints has stayed the same during the years. Why would I want to confine some poor girl to a childless marital bed, causing her disgrace? But Leliah is a smart woman and she knows that I might give in if she puts her words right and finds the proper girl for the job. It makes me ashamed to admit that she knows me too well, and in the end, I might yield to her wishes, because she knows I only want her to be happy. But I am still not sure if taking another bedmate would make her wishes of a child come true. There is no room for miracles in our marital bed, I’m afraid. The fault is mine, and not hers.

It would make me feel more at ease if you could pray for her, brother, if it isn’t too much of a bother. I have done so for years, so she could find her inner peace, but I’m afraid she needs to initiate the journey towards the conclusion herself. I can only pray for it to happen faster and her to feel in peace with herself during the process. What a lousy high priest I am, right?

But all in all, everything has been boringly normal in the capital. I am going to make a short visit to Jiddab, if I have time, and might send you something if I’ll be able to recover some texts or relics. I pray for your safety, brother, as always. May Mystra guide you.

Your eternal brother in faith,

— Ardashir

He put down his quill and let the ink dry. It felt bittersweet, and somewhat surprising how fast time had passed. Who would have thought that everything in the past would have led them to this point? He would have never guessed that he’d become a high priest. Not that it wouldn’t have been the necessary career choice so he had been able to keep his head, but it had been quite a surprise to even himself. If he could only be better for his people… at least he could still serve them as he had been taught to do, just in a bit different way.

The High Priest of Mystra, Awar Yerzhan Khamet, previously known as Ardashir Rasim Khamet, the previous crown prince, took a sip of his minty tea and let out yet another sigh, closing his eyes. He could not shake his uneasiness and worry that had been lingering in the edge of his consciousness for some time now.

Am I selfish, brother, when I wish you would be here by my side? I know it is for your own safety to stay away, and I helped you to flee back then… but I still miss you, like you were my own flesh and blood. Stay safe and may Mystra shield you from all the harmful blows of our enemies. I know you are the stronger of us. The better. The wiser. The Blessed child. Thus, even if I will fall, you will stay afloat. You always will, as you are destined for greatness I can only hope to see a glimpse of. My brother, the seer of dreams. For the love of God, stay safe. Please.