By the time she was out of the bath and into her night clothes.
She entered the room that she shared with Ellie and Bon Bon, finding both of their spots empty. Probably, she figured, on account of there still being a good two hours left until Mythtier.
But this was of no immediate concern. The only bunk that interested her right now was her own. And some beast had already hitched and laid it out for her.
Probably Ellie.
Before she could let its comfy mesh devour her however, she faintly registered the sight of a brown wrapped bundle with a miniscule note stuck to the top lying by the foot.
She slid the neatly folded parchment carefully out from underneath the twine, fished out Iradyl’s magnifier and read it.
Daisha,
If you're reading this then I'm not there. And this time I don't have an easy explanation for you. Balance of probability is I'm dead. The permanent kind this time if I’ve so much the right.
I just wanted you to know that I'm proud of you for passing those Trials, with or without my help. You found the White Wand. You defeated Saedel. Something not any other beast alive could have done.
And about what I said at the end of that tunnel, I meant it. Your father would be very proud if he were there right now. I’ll give him your regards when next I see him.
Oh, and one more thing, consider this a farewell gift. A little something to remember me by. That is, if you’re so inclined. I would fully understand if you’re not. It’s up to you. I leave it in your hands. So to speak.
Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
And if you ever need me again, just break the seal. I know it’s vague, but come on. Most of the fun in life is figuring it out. That’s what Flint always liked to say. And for once I actually agree with him.
You may have noticed I'm not so good at the whole mushy sentimental farewell deal. So let me just leave you by saying that if the whole Pyratical circus doesn't work out for you, you’d have a sparkling career prospect as a musician.
Just a thought.
Silver
Amelia read and re-read the letter. Committing every word, every sentence, every parlance and phrase to memory.
When she had it immortalized she undid the package twine and wrap to find a plain wooden cigar box sealed with an aftermarket brass lock and banded latch.
She did not recognize the elegantly relieved runes scratched around the lid and on the head of the key. But through her mind jaunted the phrase, “life through the climb. Honor through the fall”.
‘Great. More puzzles,’ she thought.
Inside the box, on a folded cushion of blue satin, a cylindrical silver vial with a dainty silver chain and crimson wax seal over the cap lie in wait for her.
Gingerly, as she would handle a fragile newborn, she lifted the thing from its cradle and studied it. Impressing its every finitude of detail to into her mental annals.
Like a babe, it cooed beneath her tender caress as though it were happy to see her.
She laid both it and the letter back in the box, locked it and clasped it tightly to her chest as she fell into her hammock. Neglecting, just this once, to set her alarm chimer.
Within moments her eyes grew heavy, and her mind started to drift slowly along to that wonderful land of neither the living nor the dead. In the last breaths before the final sopor took its gentle sway, she gazed out at the stars through the slit in the half-opened window.
A warm etheric breeze husbanding the soft blanket of sleep landed upon her. She hugged the incumbent thoughts of home and hearth like a plush toy and quietly slipped a pair of heavy words into the empty air before letting them envelope her completely.
“Thank you.”
She would later pass it off as the lucid side effects of her natural sleeping drought, but just as she was on the brink of unconsciousness a voice as ethereal as the night itself whispered delicately into her ear, “sleep well Daisha.”
She fell into a deep and tranquil sleep from which no beast, not even the old grouch Prokvert, so much as entertained the specter of the notion of trying to wake her until well into the next afternoon.
THE END (FER NOW)