Greetings Matriarch...

No, Thepa thought. That's not quite right.

She took the tip of her quill and crossed out the words on the vanilla stationary, then tried again.

Dearest Mother...

It was better, but still off. With a third attempt, she tried to be more formal.

To Sister Lockti of the Warbol Clan; Ruler and Matriarch of the Beachwick.

Definitely not. Thepa furiously scratched out the sentence.

She looked down at the stationary and pondered where to go from there. Maybe the greeting was not a good place to start.

She took out a new piece of stationary and found a place part way down before beginning again.

Things in Goldale are going well, albeit a little strange.

That much was true. For someone who spent most of her life growing up on the Island of Esha and in the jungles of the Beachwick, things had been going surprisingly well for Thepa, albeit a little strange. Originally, she had expected more resistance regarding her leadership as Captain of the Goldale Guard, but each of her soldiers received her as if she herself was a Youngling of the Stars. To most of them, it didn't matter she was a Youngling of the Mountains. It didn't matter she had dark stubby horns on her head or black cloven hooves; respect was given to her at the highest order, even though she felt she had never earned it.

Still, everything was strange to Thepa. It had been a full completion since she became captain and despite the graciousness of her elvan hosts, she often felt out of sorts. So far, she hadn't found a single common thing between Goldale and the Beachwick. Even the sea, smelled different from the fresh, salt spray of home.

She continued to write.

It's even stranger being around men.

It was the men who confused Thepa the most. She wasn't used to men. Really, she wasn't used to anyone who wasn't a satyr like herself except for the Younglings of the Trees she came across during her training in Wildehaven, not that she considered the male halflings men. Even then, living among those of the opposite sex was especially unnerving. Occasionally, human and elven women would come into the Beachwick on official business; they would rarely stay. But there were never men— at least as far as she knew. She doubted the Sisterhood could stand such a scandal, not that her mother would have allowed it.

She stared at her words, pondering their implications.

Is this really where I want to go with this? I should be telling her the truth. Ugh. Why is this so hard? Maybe it's better this way. Maybe I'll tell her I fell in love with an elf. She'd believe that... Maybe then she'd forgive me.

It had happened before, with some of the other satyrs in the Beachwick. They too fell in love, here one day than gone the next—vanished into the jungles of the island of Esha or perhaps the mainland. It didn't really matter where; they just weren't allowed to stay there.

Her musings started to spiral as she wondered what would her mother say if she really did fall in love. Even if her mother somehow bore the scandal, she highly doubted the rest of the Matrons would.

Had Mother even been in love?

Certainly, Thepa knew she must have been conceived somehow, but there was nothing left of the male biologic who helped bring her into this world. He was gone before she ever had a chance to meet him.

Was he handsome? Did they share any features?

With her bronze complexion, well- rounded blue eyes, slender legs, cloven feet, and wavy brown hair, she looked so much like her mother; she doubted she inherited a single trait from her male biologic. Even the small horns which barely curved around the lobes of her ears were likely to come straight from the Matriarch. Still, her mother found someone, somewhere. If it could happen to her mother, it could happen to her. Maybe it would even happen in Goldale.

Whatever did happen to her, she doubted it would be love, especially love with these men.

Focus, Thepa, focus. Just tell her. It's easy. Three words. You can do it.

But Thepa didn't. Thinking about both her biologics left her feeling a mix of frustration and sadness. She was so used to being the perfect daughter of the Matriarch, following all the rules and expectations. But now, having spent her adult life away from the Beachwick with non-satyrs and their different ways of life, she felt like she was drowning in uncertainty. Almost everything was a foreign concept to her; one she didn't know how to handle.

Frustrated, she pressed forward in her letter.

Being the Captain in the Goldale Guard is more difficult than I expected.

It was the reason Thepa was in Goldale in the first place. Originally, it was expected from the moment she had picked up a bow she would complete her conscription with one of the three guilds of the Beachwick: The Sisters of the Beachwoods. However, all that changed when her mother met the Wildehaven Hunters.

Completions ago, Thepa received an unusual request from her mother. In the heart of her ancestral home, the Matriarch asked Thepa to join her on a diplomatic mission to Wildehaven, to meet with some of the Wildehaven Hunters. While she did not know the whole story of what happened between the hunters and her mother, she imagined it had to be impressive for her mother not to continue her conscription under Sister Zelphina.

She continued to write.

Their style is quite different from that of the Wildehaven Hunters or Sister Zelphina.

"Thank Esha for that," she snorted.

Thepa thought about the day she first picked up a bow. It was sometime after her fifteenth completion. She and the other satyrs her age were making the traditional rounds of the Sisterhood guilds, to determine which guild they would serve as part of their mandatory conscription. Even the Matriarch's daughter would not be excused; not that she minded. It was a welcome break from politics and the ways of the Sisterhood.

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Though joining one of the three guilds was mandatory, all matrons could choose where to serve their time. She first visited the Sisters of Blood, led by Sister Vivian, who demonstrated their formidable combat style. Although she acknowledged their strength, she felt it wasn't the right fit for her. The following day, she toured the Sisters of Skirret, led by Sister Onna, who highlighted their roles as city guards, diplomats, and protectors of the region. Despite the guild's safety and importance, she still felt it wasn't the right choice.

The day she visited the Beachwood, their leader, Sister Zelphina, had setup an archery range in the clearing outside the massive wooden gate leading into the Beachwick. Immediately, Thepa was intrigued. The large targets of blue, yellow, and red were a stark contrast from the earth- tone background she was used to. After a brief explanation on how to use the bow, Sister Zelphina turned and shot the target dead center. Many of the recruits cheered, and while Thepa thought cheering might have been unbecoming of her status as future Matriarch, she nodded approvingly.

Later, when the demonstrations had concluded, the recruits were divided into groups and told to try it out. The first group went and none of them hit a target. Sister Zelphina assured them that the skill required to find the mark would come with practice, and that this was only a chance for them to feel the bow and arrow.

When it came time for Thepa's turn, she picked up the bow and euphoria spread across her body. Even now, the memory of the experience brought a smile to her lips.

The bow just felt... right.

She didn't know how to describe the feeling, but it seemed like it belonged in her hands, as if it was made especially for her. She gave the string a small twang to test its strength; the sound was music to her ears.

Next, she reached into the bucket of arrows and grabbed the first one her fingers touched. Feeling the balance of it in her hands, she instinctively knew it was a wrong one. Tactfully she dropped it back in the bucket and tried again. The next one was not perfect either, but somehow, she knew it would get the job done.

Unlike the other Younglings of the Mountains, Thepa took her time. She tried her best to mimic the stance and position Sister Zelphina had shown them. She notched the arrow to the string and gave it a few test pulls to make sure it would make the distance. It was a strange feeling as the string resisted, but a good one. It sent a pleasant tingle down her arm.

She made her stance and took in a deep breath, all while studying the target down the shaft of the arrow. The wind in the trees blew to the right and as she made a small adjustment to the left, she slowly released her breath and arrow. Then, she watched, as if in slow motion, as her arrow arched towards the target with a soft thunk.

The arrow found its mark, destroying Sister Zelphina's in the process. The rest of the group stopped what they were doing to gaze in wonder— but this time no one cheered.

That night, Sister Zelphina spoke to the Matriarch to personally tell her what had happened. It was decided, without Thepa's input, that she would join the Beachwood. Again, another choice was taken away from her.

Slowly, Thepa's smile faded to a frown as the memory took an unfortunate turn. What should have been a happy moment in her life, was taken away by Sister Zelphina. From that day on, Thepa was never good enough.

Despite being the top of her class, Sister Zelphina treated her like a dunce. While many of the girls were praised for being mediocre, she received only criticism.

"Shot fourteen birds, why not fifteen? Shot ten arrows in a minute, why didn't you shoot twelve? You fooled all of your classmates in camouflage training, why didn't you fool me?"

It got so bad that none of the other satyrs wanted her in their groupings for fear of receiving the same treatment. By then she had only been in the Beachwood for a single completion, and with three more to go, she wasn't sure how much more of it she could take. Therefore, when the opportunity came for her to join her mother on a trip to Wildehaven, she eagerly agreed.

Fortunately for Thepa, going to Wildehaven changed her world. Her meeting with the Wildehaven Hunters that day put her on a path that led her to the halfling city to finish her conscription. Things were awkward and the training was difficult, but for the first time in her life she had friends. Three to be exact. First there was Claudia, a Youngling of the Trees. A stoic paladin by nature and trade, Thepa believed the taller than average halfling to have a heart of gold. Whenever she felt her moral compass drifting, or her heart sadden, Claudia was always there for her.

Then there was Einkidi, another Youngling of the Trees. Unlike the stoic paladin, Einkidi was quick with a joke, yet fiercely competitive. She might have been the youngest of the four of them and blind as a bat without her trademark spectacles, but Thepa knew her magic could level buildings. Once, the three of them had observed Einkidi take out a group of automations during training. Afterward, Claudia commented, "Edlyn help anyone who dares to make her mad." Thepa didn't respond, but secretly she agreed, promising herself to never be on Einkidi's bad side.

Then there was Rory. An elf and a cleric, Rory served as the high priestess of her deity, Chandeidra—surprising, given how little she took life seriously when they first met. Rory had taken the longest to grow up, perhaps due to the influence of her foster halfling mother, but Thepa wouldn't have had it any other way.

Though Thepa loved all her friends, the Youngling of the Stars held a special place in her heart. It was Rory who first drew Thepa out of her shell, and it was Rory who introduced her to Claudia and Einkidi. Without Rory, Thepa knew she wouldn't be the woman she was today.

Leaving Wildehaven and her friends had been the hardest thing Thepa had ever done in her life. When it came time for the four of them to part ways, she took the idea of the Sisterhood from her homeland and gifted her three friends with a special bond. The right to call her sister.

But that was before Thepa ruined everything.

Thepa sat back in her chair allowing her arms to fall by her side. Outside, military recruits were training, the new cycle of soldiers getting ready to fight in the war. In a few weeks their assessments would be on her desk for review, but she was sure all of them would pass. The war was never ending. Soon, Goldale would need new bodies, and even those would not be enough. She thought about taking a break to check their progress, but ultimately forced herself back to the letter.

I miss ...

Just write it. Write it you big dummy. Really, it's not that hard. You can do it.

But again, Thepa didn't do it.

I miss the taste of a good bass. I've tried so hard to find some, but the fishermen here seem to believe our calico is too far south. Still, I'm happy. Every day is a challenge. I see myself as an arrow headed towards the target. The wind may blow the shaft and ruffle the fletching, but as long as my aim is true, I know I will hit my mark. Someday, I will make you and the Sisterhood proud.

"But I won't," Thepa said, setting down her quill with a sigh. She was sure of it. As long as she continued to lie to herself, nothing would ever be the same again. The distance between Thepa and her mother had grown too vast. She didn't belong in Goldale. She belonged at home, in the Beachwick, at her mother's side, learning to lead their people.

Goldale, like Wildehaven before it, was a different and strange place, but it had some upsides. The pressure of being the Matriarch's daughter didn't exist here. People didn't bow to her and they didn't stop talking when she entered a room. Still, she cared very much for the Matrons back home. She loved both them and the Beachwick and would have given her life, like many before her, for their safety. However, she couldn't deny that for the first time in her life she was finally in control.

Thepa picked up the letter, her eyes scanning the words before her grip tightened. With a sharp breath, she crushed it into a ball and tossed it away, frustration flaring.

Why do I even bother? She thought.

In the completion since she had arrived, she hadn't sent a single missive, not that she hadn't tried. A war might have been tearing through Sainta, but an equally fierce battle raged within her, one she worried she would never win. Deciding the letter was doomed anyway, she picked up a third piece of stationary and began to write from the heart.

I miss you, Mom.

Not a day goes by that I don't think about you or the day I ruined everything. I'm sorry for the heartache I've put you through. I know you don't approve of me being here. I know my place is at home preparing to wear the crown. But I want you to know that I'm working hard and trying my best. Each day brings a new set of challenges not found in the Beachwick. The food is strange, the people act foolishly, and the customs are bizarre, but I see all of them as opportunities to make myself better for the Matrons. One day, I will make you proud. Until that day comes, I hope you find it in your heart to forgive me and welcome me home.

Love, Thepa