Year 822, Week 37, Marina
My dearest Wren,
In all my years, I have yet to see such a feeling put to words the way that you did in your letter.
I would be honored to walk the shoreline with you, even if it is difficult for me to fully believe what you say. Trust is a luxury that even my title does not afford me. I am sure you can relate. But I will endeavor to indulge in it within these pages.
Perhaps instead of disclosing more secrets or delving into grief, we could share in the happier emotions together? I will go first.
When I was twelve years of age, Finn and I climbed the tallest tower in all the Lucent Enclave. It is called the Watchtower, and its purpose used to be to alert of approaching enemies. Now it is merely a place where young boys can get into mischief.
We were breathless and giddy by the time we reached the top. Each of us pretended we would throw the other off, laughing because we knew we never would.
I looked out over the Capitol–which is called Enlight, if you didn’t know–and there was this indescribable quickening in my chest. I recall wanting to run back down the stairs and out into the streets, but also wanting to plant my feet and never leave.
The setting sun painted the city in gold and orange. Not your favorite pink, but it was still beautiful. Even Finn grew quiet at the sight. And for a fleeting moment, I felt as though the weight of my crown was not so heavy.
A memory for a memory. I look forward to reading yours.
Fondly,
Castien