Letters to the Dead II
Voices in the Wind

It was like his last letter -- written with a kind of brutal, innocent honesty and the penmanship of a small child. It spoke of thoughts and questions he'd never felt he could ask and when the ink dried, raising up as it did, Renne slipped it out of the cracked steel door to let the winds have their way with it.
He half-wanted his letter to be found.
He wholeheartedly hoped that whether found or not, its intended recipient might know he was still both loved and not alone.

---------------

'Chee,

It has been much time since your voice last spoke. I have much confusion within my mind and I seek now to destroy an evil thing within me. Mind-healers have called it a sickness in the mind that forces my hands to do things. I am far away from Humans, far away and in the cold places. I believe I am led here to be rid of the sickness and find myself and find home again. And I seek redemption for the evils I believe my hands and my mind have committed.
I am attempting not to become evil. But I have fear, much fear.
I hope you are well and wish you much warmth, joy and laughter.
I have hope we may meet again. I miss you.

I hope perhaps, if you hear of my mind, my hands and the sickness, that one day forgiveness can be found. You are still hero and friend to me, I believe this.

-Renne

Letters to the Dead II
Vestibule Door

The hands and claws were behind him for a time. He wasn't out of the strange, eerily deserted/occupied chamber and had no clue of either how to get out, or what lay beyond it. All he knew was that the place stank like a charnel house, held intense heat -- that part Renne more than enjoyed -- and there was no stillness to the air either within or outside beyond the steel barrier he'd come through.
He took a chance to sit down and pen another letter. Heartache and even heartbreak were common companions to him but since he'd learned at least semi-decent literacy, it took some of the edge off.

------------------------

Brother-Friend Cinder,

I continue on following the evil-smelling creature that took the other life-form away. It smells like a Human, this life-form but I am unsure. I have learned that there is a difference between a Human and a People -- I think they are two species entirely even if much of each other is the same.
They smell the same, even sound much the same. But I think a Human and a People have some differences in Signatures.

I must speak a confession to you, Brother-Cinder. I miss you already as I have missed Teacher-'Chee this very long time. I hope you are unharmed and have much joy. Your gift of stone and the needle-device bring me much strength.
And Brother-Cinder, do you know anything about what other gods are like? Do they have homes? Do they punish evil acts? I beg forgiveness if I speak words I should not speak. I am in a place with demons and evil things, so I may not speak with care.

I shall find the stolen life-form and return it to its place. Then, I must find redemption for the evil things my hands have committed. And then I must destroy the Hunter -- he still speaks within me, speaking evil things about you and my Bond-Mate and my other heroes. Do you ever have evil beings speak to you? How do you make them go away?
When the Hunter is destroyed, I shall return and I shall deliver my promise to you. I believe then, my mind will be cured of the evil sickness the mind-healers say that the Hunter is.

What kind of an adventure do you have a wish for? I wish to keep my word to you. Perhaps I shall find a beautiful thing here and acquire it as a gift for you and 'Nathan. Please be safe and may much joy come to you.

Faithful T'hyhar-an,
Renne

Letters to the Dead II
Tho' Wide He May Roam

It was dark by the time he roused his mind out of memory and back into the present. It wasn't entirely unpleasant -- he thought of Cinder and a peculiar scent caught drifting on the wind.
And tonight, it was he that Renne chose to write to despite never knowing if any of his letters were to be found.

He wrote his letters for their intended recipients and, barring that, for whomever might have the curiosity to learn from them or the compassion to act, spurred by their words.

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Cinder,

It is strange that I end up in another Human prison. I am thankful however, that these Humans do not so swiftly name me to be an evil life-form. They speak strange words and of strange objects. Cinder, what is a bending fender?
A Human placed me here and asked me that I stay. He said I should learn about the roads here.

Is this not Rhy'Din?

No, I suppose not.

Still, I shall stay here either until the Human tells me what it is I have done or until I know that I must depart. Humans can think of me what they will -- be it a monster or simply a life-form they do not understand.

It is strange, Cinder. I think now and I am reminded of Darran. You are like him in some ways. And I think Heaven would have liked you, truly.

Where are you? Are you well? I hope so.

I miss you.

-Renne

Letters to the Dead II
Of Dogs and Pens

It was a second prison break.

Third, if one counted the night he was slipped out unawares.

Still, in this particular darkness, two letters take to the wind; one by raven and one by the wind itself.
Down on the ground, a blue creature crawled with its nose locked to find a scent and track it.

It wasn't uncommon that he was mistaken for a dog, so strong was his loyalty to those that deserved it.

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Cinder,

I have found your words and I shall keep them like I keep all things. I go now to seek you. Your scent is very strong in this strange place of metal dragons with bad breath.

And yes, Cinder. I am most real, even if I have a sickness within my mind.

I am most real even if I am an evil life-form.

I have no care for the evils you say you commit. You are not evil but you are not perfect. No life-form has perfection. You still have my loyalty.

And Cinder, what is an angel? I do not understand what this is. Is it a life-form related to Humans?
Perhaps I shall find you and we may speak again.

I have saved my bottles of the not-firewyne. I save them for only those I hold loyalty to.

Where does your smell go to, Cinder? You are, at times, most difficult to find! You are most...clever, I believe this is the word.

Please remain safe.
You are loved, Friend-Brother.

-Renne

Letters to the Dead II
Nothingness Face to Face
(Dated for April 18.)

It was a strange thing to have found a place like this.
Above, the cries and shrieks of harpies echoed in the air. Around him, trees bled and gave voice to terrible howling. Tree that, in the rare times he could duck low enough from the swooping harpies, spoke in their howlings.
And below him, the ground was blood-soaked sand, like something out of a battle that never did end.

Having found a place to sit down in relative peace, Renne took out pen, paper, ink and a few of his prized belongings. All of these were balanced either on his lap or, when he could move without risk of dropping anything, held in his arms.
Nothing dared be left on this foul ground.

It never took him long to arrange his possessions. It always took him forever to understand things in perspective.
As he began to write, Renne listened to the trees howling and the harpies' ravenous screeching. It was hardly a symphony but better a cacophony than the quiet where voices whispered in the dark.

Healer of Mind,

I know I am not within the place at Port South and for this, I ask forgiveness. I could not bear the Hunter within my head anymore and I went away from Rhy'Din, away from Humans, to try to kill the Hunter and have my head back where it should be.
Back where it once was.

What is a soul, Healer? Can this thing, innocence, be returned?

I am in a place now that is most frightening. It is a place of trees that cry and bleed. And above me, great birds call. They scream and scream and cry. And they eat the trees, making the trees bleed and cry.
I do not know what this place is but I know why I am here. I search for a Human that found me in the cold north. He held me but his body became cold. And then an evil demon took him away!
I am here in search of the Human. I hope to return the Human to where he should be. And then, I wish to find 'Nathan. And you. And...home.

I have never had a Home for long. I think perhaps I am to remain a nomad. It is too much a risk to remain in one place -- the longer one stays, the deeper the wound when a wound is inflicted.
And I, Healer, have many.

Most of these are made by Humans. I think that is why I begin to dislike Humans. I did not have such emotions before. I wish to return to that state. I wish to return to my curiosity. My certainty.
Innocence.

I wish to have a Soul, healer. I wish to have my heart back.

-Renne

Letters to the Dead II
Scissorhand Innocence
(Dated for April 23-24)

It was discovered a long time ago that his words could get him into trouble; as could his own devotion. Still, he couldn't destroy that integral part of himself and inside, Renne flared hot with anger. he knew that part of him had become sick.
Sick with grief.
Sick with shame.
Sick with a guilt, probably misplaced but still keenly felt.

What was so clearly existent therefore, had to be acknowledged.

He had sat there and heard every word spoken by these three strange entities -- two likely mortal, the other not. He had sat there and managed to keep almost everything he felt from showing on his face as he wrote honest words to a mentor long gone. Dead? He never knew for sure with Artyr.
He never got word of the Hold-Hair's death.
So he wrote to them while the words told the tale these three wanted to hear.
And he spared them nothing.

----------------------------

Artyr,

How do you define what is Evil? When I was within my HomeWorlds, I believed I knew what Evil was. It was something that took Life. it was something that dealt damage or dark emotion to another thing. It was at least fairly simple.
Evil was something that merited Undocmentation.
I never knew where I stood with this, as I was never Documented in the first place. But I care not. I exist and as my place fell, I walk now to carry it with me.
And then I came to these worlds.

I thought I knew what Evil was. I thought I knew what tears were.

Believing things as a child, I became one.
Let me tell you a story, Artyr. Perhaps you might understand it better than I.

Once upon a time, there lived two Heroes. One smelled dark and brown, like earth deep within a forest. He was like restless earth, shifting like the sands yet steady in his thoughts. The other smelled golden, like the Second Sun as it rose to warm us at the Dawn-Time. He loved words and painted beautiful things with his words. He was strong but never stood still.
The heroes protected their home against many Evil things -- Thunder and evil life-forms. The heroes knew how to make Thunder as well.
I always marveled that they could make thunder. Yet I feared the thunder. You see, some evil Humans made Thunder and with this Thunder, came little tiny balls that brought pain.
I think the heroes were afraid as I was, so when the thunder came, I think they forgot me. The Thunder hit me, you see and it made me want to go to sleep. I do not understand why they left me, but the Thunder did not take me. When I woke up again, they allowed me to come with them.

They beat the evil Humans back and when I made an Error, they forgave me. I think.

We drifted for a time, exploring. But we always came back. Once, the Golden Hair did not come back. I think he went to explore someplace very far. But he did come back later.
We were back and met many adventures. Sometimes they let me come with them. Sometimes, they asked me to stay behind -- and I learned once that I should do as they ask me. So after one Error, I did as they asked me.
One time though, I think I should have followed them. I do not know or understand, but they came back after their adventure with strange Emotions against their Signatures.
Another time, anger flared between them. This anger was almost too frghtening to witness but what could I do? I could not flee, I dared not. Yet I could say nothing, understanding nothing of why they exchanged dark words.

And then the Dark Haired one did something strange. He left his Thunder-Making device and wrote to me a message. It explained nothing. All it said was 'Good luck. Goodbye'. I hate 'Goodbye'.
I became filled with fear, so I followed him and I took his Thunder-Making device so it would be protected. I was very careful with it, afraid to damage it or make Thunder by mistake. The Golden One followed him too. Somehow, the Golden Haired one was faster - I think he could run very fast. Or he knows of something i do not. Either way, we found the Dark-Haired one and again, for reasons I do not understand, we came home.
I never asked why it all happened.
I did not believe it was my right.

The Dark Haired one said to me once, 'Brother is brother, lover is lover'. I do not understand what it means but I believe I have a hypothesis.
So I never asked.

And I gave him his Thunder-Makig device back.

I gave it back when I perhaps should not have.

I destroyed him, Artyr.

I did not ask when I perhaps should have. Before, I would ask when I should not have. Still, I tried to watch them, to guard them as I knew how.
And then the Dark-Haired one disappeared.

The Golden Haired one said he was gone, never to come back. At first, I did not believe him but then I questioned myself. The Golden Haired one never spoke to me an Untruth. Why would he do so now? His words were flanked by a terrible Emotional emanation.
When he told me I could still remain and watch over Home, I took the duty gladly. I never wanted to leave that place.
And then he disappeared too.

It was a dream that made me realise.

I destroyed my hero. My other hero vanished to somewhere.
I tried speaking with words of ink. This did not work. I even tried searching.
This too, yielded nothing except a strange place by the sea I still go to when I am near it. I cannot decipher its lingerings, but the lingerings are there.
My dream spoke loudly of a dark being rising from the sea and holding out a Thunder-Making device.

And then the being began to laugh and follow me.

I tried to make the being go away but he continued until he grew. And then the Hunter came. He is evil, Artyr and I wish to destroy him! He made me go to sleep and when I woke, I found myself in different places. I do not remember going to these places, but I was there.

When the Dark-Haired one's ghost came to me, he told me I did evil things and must go to a place called Jail. I went but I was confused and felt much pain. I went, asking only one thing -- that Home still be there when I understood what was inside me and made it go away.

It was not.

My candle had come to me.

I ran to the cold Norths and tried to destroy the Hunter but I failed. On the way though, I did learn that Home was safe. I am thankful for at least this much.
I suppose then, it was not entirely an Untruth. Was it?

The Hunter is still with me, Artyr. And now, I find a Human has been kidnapped by a Demon. So now, I must find the Human and take the Human back to where he belongs.
And then I must destroy the Hunter.

I would give anything of myself to understand this.
To have Home back.

That is my story, Artyr. I told Saint Nick my wish for the Christmas. It is my first wish. My second wish is to find out if the Gold Haired one is well.
I hope he is. And if he knows of me now, I wish too, one day, that he may forgive me.
That is all. Silly wishes, I know, but I wish them.

What do you think, Artyr? What should I do?
How does an Avian fly when he has but one wing to fly with?

-Renne