Letter of Treason

Dear Nicu,
Yesteryear, there was a call to arms. The Council decreed the remains of Mlastia to the southwest where an imminent threat to our country. Long have the creatures from the swamps below meddled and took advantage of good Zafristi men. Covens of witches spin curses and kill valuable crops about the mouth of the fens. Somehow, monsters have begun to make their way atop the plateau. It is here where I am stationed. Each day I look out at the horizon seeing large copses of trees and tall grass a hundred feet below. The place smells of mold and mildew as many sodden places do. What troubles me is knowing that Mlastia was once a territory of farmers and kindly folk that looked after one another.
When I was your age, I remember when doctors sang the praises of the leech gathers and the medicine women. The kindly women of Mlastia, stronger than rock and taller than our best stalks of corn, shared their techniques in medicine, irrigation, and song. My boy, you've never heard a finer song than that from the heavenly chords within a Mlastian woman. The trouble in there is that Mlastians are not quite human. They are amphibious: able to breathe both on land and beneath the water. Zafriste issued an order that forbade soldiers and other military personnel from any interaction with the women. This lead to a revolt amongst a score of men: they demanded that they be allowed to be with these women. I was one of those men.
You know of my limp. An injury from battle, I told you. Your mother and I met after I fell an immeasurable distance and shattered my leg. I was alone in the mists of filthy water and high grass. I saw her face before I passed out. She mended my wounds within her hut, promising that I was not in any danger. We spent a month with one another, laughing and enjoying each other's company. My regiment eventually stumbled across me when scouting the area I fell. I ran and feigned fear as I went to find you, my son. I explained to your mother what was happening and that she needed to run. I hid you in my pack after your mother used a technique to keep you quiet. I took you far across the plateau and back home, struggling to keep the other men from hearing your cries or whimpers. You're nearly a man, and I wanted you to know how much I care for you. There is nothing I wouldn't do for you, but those times I've left you in the care of my brother and left for a month at a time, I was visiting your dear mother. I couldn't tell you this because I needed to protect you. Nobody would even make an attempt at understanding our circumstances.
Today, I stand upon the precipice that overlooks the Fens, thinking dearly about how much I yearn to see your mother again. I know not if I shall return or ever see you again, my boy, but with the grace of Vataj, you shall finally meet your mother. I hope this letter reaches you quickly, as I have the finest courier of the former regiment headed to you.
Sincerely,
Your Father

Purpose

This letter was confiscated from the hands of a treacherous courier. Claiming ignorance, he refused to identify who the soldier was that had this sent. He was executed and the letter was saved as evidence.

Medium

Paper