Letters

My dearest Wren,

Forgive me if this letter is scattered. I am writing it in between spurts of combing through evidence.

I hope you are well in the midst of the circumstances. I worry about your Curse during times such as these. Perhaps the isolation is benefiting you, in that you aren’t exposed to the waves of grief and panic.

Tomorrow we give Perci over to the Tides. I think you wrote in your journal that such an act was custom on the Wild Holm, and it was how your brother was laid to rest. It is not so on the Lucent Enclave. I find myself warring with the idea of it, but I don’t think there is a better option.

I cannot think of what else to write, only that I miss you and wish you were not so far.

Yours,

Castien

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