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Dear Audreyn,
I have been hoping that perhaps you have been practicing your quillmanship or have been nervous of putting your thoughts down in ink and having them sent to me.
As time has passed I have come to realise that this is wishful thinking on my part. I suspect instead that it is the circumstances that led us to Elbion that have stayed your hand.
I am nothing if not slow to acknowledge when I am wrong.
It was Murant all over again, yet it wasn't his doing. Gerrard was certain he heard his horse bolt away from the blaze behind him. The smoke was thick, the heat oppressive. It took all his concentration to whip the smoke away and to draw the heat away from his face.
This was where they had taken her. A town several miles outside the walls. Gerrard already knew there couldn't be a single soul left alive in the blaze. He had lost her. This was his fault. Her death, and the deaths of everyone who had perished in this blaze, were on him.
" Audreyn !" he called out. He couldn't let go and turn back. Not yet.
This letter is not a full explanation, but perhaps you would accept that I acted with the best intentions for you. I want a future for you. I am not pushing you away, but I am not the right one to teach control. The last person who should, in fact.
I remain at my private residence, continuing my work. In Vel Anir they seem to be ramping up the war efforts so I have been utilising other lines to obtain what I need to continue. I have no interest in getting involved in their minor politics and squabbles. They bore me.
I hope that perhaps you can bring yourself to write back. I would love to hear how your studies have started.
Yours sincerely,
Gerrard
I have been hoping that perhaps you have been practicing your quillmanship or have been nervous of putting your thoughts down in ink and having them sent to me.
As time has passed I have come to realise that this is wishful thinking on my part. I suspect instead that it is the circumstances that led us to Elbion that have stayed your hand.
I am nothing if not slow to acknowledge when I am wrong.
It was Murant all over again, yet it wasn't his doing. Gerrard was certain he heard his horse bolt away from the blaze behind him. The smoke was thick, the heat oppressive. It took all his concentration to whip the smoke away and to draw the heat away from his face.
This was where they had taken her. A town several miles outside the walls. Gerrard already knew there couldn't be a single soul left alive in the blaze. He had lost her. This was his fault. Her death, and the deaths of everyone who had perished in this blaze, were on him.
" Audreyn !" he called out. He couldn't let go and turn back. Not yet.
This letter is not a full explanation, but perhaps you would accept that I acted with the best intentions for you. I want a future for you. I am not pushing you away, but I am not the right one to teach control. The last person who should, in fact.
I remain at my private residence, continuing my work. In Vel Anir they seem to be ramping up the war efforts so I have been utilising other lines to obtain what I need to continue. I have no interest in getting involved in their minor politics and squabbles. They bore me.
I hope that perhaps you can bring yourself to write back. I would love to hear how your studies have started.
Yours sincerely,
Gerrard
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