Topic: Carry On Wayward Son

Crispin · Date: 2013-11-25 22:35 EST

The Rhy'Din suns did not so much pour their light into the room as filled it with warmth and a full, gentle silence. Dust drifted in the heaven sent glow, silent as the man at the desk, the light bathing him, catching in the white fabric of his shirt and electrifying it. Black Marks stood out like shackles on his arms, clasping him in their non-existent but perpetual grip. His dark fan of lashes protected his downcast eyes as he looked upon the items on the desk before him.

All paper. The first stack, the furthest to his left, was a collection of photos an inch thick. His own twelve year old face stared up uncomfortably at him from a backdrop of trees against a broad, blue sky. Leena's backyard.

There were three other faces looking out at him from behind the gloss. A tall man, his hair short and dark, as was the trim beard on his jaw. Eyes bluer than the sky overhead crinkled at the corners, teeth white, barely contained in a broad smile of pride and unconditional love. Beneath his chin, to preteen Cris's left, stood a girl with a heart shaped face and a spattering of freckles. Her eyes a silver sheen like a wet knife, red lips stretched wide. On the girl's left was a boy roughly their age, his smile just as wide. His coloring matched the man's, while the girl had the man's features.

The man had his arm looped around Cris' and the other boy's shoulders. Cris was the only one without a smile.

Theron, Remy, Leena. The Vincents.

The picture had been in a frame, resting on the nightstand of every apartment he'd ever called his own, even Bianca's loft when he'd moved in. He wondered how Salome had come into possession of it. When, why? The only one who this photo meant anything to was him.

The other two items were less than important. A white pad of paper before him with a pen laying across the lines at an angle, and another sheet of paper to his right. Its edges charred, Salome's handwriting was collected in a block. Three lines, with numbers. An address.

His gaze ticked over the three items before him for the umpteenth time and he reached for the stack of photos, lifting some, letting them fall. He caught glimpses of black hair and white skin. Of fangs and red lips, plates of food and neon club lights. Rented cars with the windows rolled down on desert landscapes.

White arms circling his neck. His own hand curved around an elbow. Brows and the tips of noses touching. Matching smiles, one curved and one fanged.

Exhaling, he pushed the photos away from him. Picking up the pen before he lost his resolve, he set it to the paper, and wrote.

Crispin · Date: 2013-11-26 22:12 EST

Mother, Father,

I must have started this letter?I do not know how many times.

You must be wondering why now, after all this time? Why I'm contacting you, and the truth is that?I don't know. I don't know? And I am sorry. I am sorry for so very many things.

I am alive. I'm?content. Am I better than when you last saw me?

I can't answer that. Truthfully, anyway. Not yet. I would never keep anything from either of you. I will tell you. I will tell you everything. But not now. I swear it.

What of you? The both of you? I am not angry with you that I haven't had any contact. I wanted it that way. I think we all did. Separating myself from Idris was what needed to happen back then. Have you been well? Do you still live in Alicante, or have you moved outside of the city? Has anything happened?

I realize it isn't fair that I tell you nothing and request all this information.

I understand.

I simply?do not know where to begin. What can I say to you?

I've missed you. Both of you, every day of my life since I've left and much more recently. Are you able to send a photo? Has father gone grey? Mother, have you finally relented and cut your hair?

Look at this. Now that I've started, I can't stop.

If I can only ask one more thing. Have you been in contact with Theron? Or Remy? Have they returned to Idris once? Ever? I expect not.

I love you. Mother, Father. I love you both. Please reply soon. You will be able to reach me now, I swear to you. Do not be cross with Salome. It was on my request that I told her not to say anything to you. I wanted to be the one to contact you first. It was selfish of me, but necessary.

I promise.

I'll wait for your reply.

Yours,
Crispin

Crispin · Date: 2013-12-02 04:08 EST

My son,

I pen this to you with a shaking hand. You'll receive a similar letter from your mother, but she will outdo me in length, I'm sure. I could not leave your letter unanswered the moment we received it.

We are well, Crispin. Let that ease your mind. We are well, and we have been well. I'm not as grey as you seem to think I am. It has only been seven years, not seventy.

We return to Alicante off and on, but we have purchased a manor along the French border. I'll leave the details to your mother and sure as the Angel is above she'll send you an archive of encyclopedic proportions of all the photographic evidence you could ever want. Now that she knows, at least, that you want such a thing.

Idris has remained mostly quiet since you've left, but the same can't be said for New York City. You haven't specified your location and this Salome went to great lengths to avoid divulging that information, so we can only assume you're no longer there, but if you are close to Salome, perhaps you'll send this message along.

Several months ago, the New York Institute reported the kidnapping and the subsequent torture and death of a Warlock named Bianca Slate. Unfortunately, they were contacted too late to save her life. Investigations uncovered several syringes of Holy water, broken steles and the remains of several Forsaken. As you know their creation is a crime punishable by imprisonment. It appeared that she had been held for days, but there was a clear rescue attempt that resulted in the death of those Forsaken.

Since Bianca's death, there have been no other traces of either Forsaken or other attacks. Should she know something, or could be persuaded to work with the Institute, this Salome could be a valuable resource.

To answer your questions regarding Theron; no. We have not seen him. The Clave has heard nothing of his whereabouts, or Remy's. Considering the violent death of his daughter, we are not surprised either.

I must apologize, this letter has taken a rather morbid turn. I'm considering scratching all that out?

There has not been a day, Crispin, that we have not thought of you. Hoped for you, wondered for you, wished you well. No doubt you'll be grilled by your mother, and so I will leave you with only this: We are thankful that you've chosen to contact us. Many times we have considered establishing a connection first but have never followed through. And we are immensely proud of you. The steps you've taken in life have turned you into a respectable man, a thoughtful Shadowhunter, and a kind friend. This path has not come without hardship, but you have a strength that is quiet, but unshakable.

Never doubt that. Never doubt our love for you, Crispin.

All my love,
Father

Crispin · Date: 2014-01-02 05:26 EST

My dearest son,

You could not begin to know the relief I felt at receiving word from you. And not simply you but this Warlock friend of yours. Unfortunately your father grew progressively more annoyed with her the longer we spoke, but knowing nothing of her and listening to her voice as she spoke about you---you have an incredibly loyal friend, Crispin, and that warms my heart. To see that you have grown so much and to have the strength of friends behind you, I am so very proud of you.

That was always a concern of ours, my son. That you would never again discover the benefits of friendship and loyalty again after Evangeline?s death. Of course we worried about so many things. I won?t bore you with that. We are your parents and we love you. And you could just as well be sitting in our very own parlor and I would worry over the softness of your cushion.

Many times have we wanted to contact you. To send word, to hear from you. But we were concerned with disrupting what peace you had managed to find.

But now that you have disturbed it first, there is nothing you can do to stop us! Ha!

Let me see. Where to begin. I?ve barely written a page and already my hand cramps with how swiftly I wish to pen my thoughts. You know, I had thought about typing this letter, but I ultimately felt the sentiment would be better realized by hand. But, I must say, for Mundanes they have come up with the most ingenious devices. Have you used a computer, my son? Oh, by the Angel, what fun! Our relocation has spoiled us.

I suppose I could start there.

The decision to move to France was joint and happened not long after you?d left on your own journey. As you know, we rarely spent time at home as it was and that remained true after your departure. It did not take us long to realize just how dreadfully lonely a home that size was without you there. The memories we all shared together lived in that house, around every corner and blanketed the furniture like dust.

It was simply time for a change. Of scenery, of many things. A new leaf, a new life.

Please don?t take this to mean that it?s your fault we?ve left Idris. On the contrary, your move away was as much our idea as it was yours. We?ve been so proud of that decision, Crispin, and I think we wanted to match your undertaking with our own. As if we could not fathom you doing something we weren?t ready to attempt ourselves.

Naturally we stuck close to Idris. Of the three nearest regions, France won our votes with Switzerland coming at a close second. I believe it was only our luck that your father?s old friend Elizabeth so happened to own a home that she?d not seen fit to use in years. It was such a steal!! Next to nothing! We meant to pay her, of course, but for a Warlock she is surprisingly unconcerned about money.

It is the most lovely manor, Crispin! Perhaps you will visit one day. I?ll send a picture along to entice you. Granted this was taken in spring. Now there?s at least a foot of snow covering everything. While beautiful, it does not hold a candle to springtime?s splendor.

Amelia, your aunt, and Harold are both doing well. Amelia has chosen to stay in Idris with her horses. She?s added two to her collection, bringing it to five. Shadowstar has since, regrettably, passed away. He was a delight up until the end, I recall. I know he was your favorite of her horses, my son, and it pains me to inform you of his death. Though one of her new acquisitions greatly resembles him. Grey as charcoal with a splash of white along its nose. I shall have to ask her what she?s named it now that I?ll be able to tell you.

As I pen this now, Harold is actually overseas at the New York Institute, but he contacts us periodically with news.

You could not believe the concern we had for you, my son, upon hearing about the events that plagued the city. Forsaken. In the Angel?s name? I still can?t fathom it. To do that to someone, even a single Mundane is abhorrent, but to several. We?ve been told there?s been evidence of bodies in the near fifties. There have been two warehouses where they seem to have been created, one of which was the one they?d found the poor Warlock in.

Did you know her? I suppose that?s a rather silly question. There?s Warlocks in every corner of the globe and New York seems to hold a fair collection of them. But if this Bianca was your friend, or an acquaintance of yours? Angel above, I can?t imagine?

As I?m sure your father has already told you, since that incident, there?s been no others of the same caliber. Harold has told us that through the Downworld circles there had been incidents involving an erratic Shadowhunter shortly thereafter that seemed to feel keen on picking fights and unprovoked drunken rages that left several behind him injured. There was at least one rumor about the death of a Faerie, can you imagine?

Of course these rumors have been investigated and proven false. The descriptions of the Shadowhunter in question were rarely specific, or even consistent, and you do know how Downworlders tend to exaggerate when they feel they?ve been slighted. Most likely it was simply a case of several packs and clans warring with each other and looking for an easy target to blame it all on.

But enough about these terrible things.

What have you been doing with yourself, my son? You must tell me everything. What was it you found yourself doing when you got to New York? I presume you didn?t work with the Institute, but then I?m curious about how you managed to survive there all those years? Well, surely Salome must have helped you. She addressed herself as the proprietor of a small shop. Did you work there with her?

(You must have seen this coming.)

Have you found anyone special to spend your time with? You must have by now, you are...twenty-four. My? How the time does fly.

For the Angel?s sake, I?ve gone and made myself completely misty.

I would like to know however, Crispin. Surely, there?s been at least one special lady. Perhaps two. If it?s several, please keep that much information to yourself. We did not raise you be a cad.

You must tell me everything about her.

You must tell me everything, simply.

I have missed you so very much, Crispin. You are my son. My only son, my only child. It pains me not to see you. To hold you in my arms and to kiss your cheek. And to even gauge the depth of the scowl lines in your brow. You?re so like your father. Oh! Have you been keeping up with your training? I trust that were we to look upon you now, we could be no more prouder of you than if an angel themselves were ours.

Have you a photo to send to us? To trade for the one I will give you, of course. You?ll note that, yes, I?ve cut a great deal of my hair. It did used to be quite short, but it has grown over the years and I rather like it where it is now. Your father is a bit more grey than he?d like to admit.

I find myself reluctant to close this letter. As if our only connection to you is about to be severed.

Please respond quickly, Crispin. We wait every day for word from you and we hope that where you have found yourself you are safe, you are healthy and you are happy.

We love you. For as long as we draw breath.

May the Angel look upon you with His undying light, my son,
Mother

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Crispin · Date: 2014-01-06 01:27 EST

Mother, Father,

I was told to expect an encyclopedia and I?ve received one. The length of your letter, Mother, made me laugh.

And also the photo you?ve sent. You may tell Father, from me, that he?s a bit more grey than he thinks he is.

I?d like you to know I feel blamed for nothing. The thought that you thought ill of me, for any reason, never once crossed my mind. I am only glad that you?ve found somewhere to enjoy your time. The manor is indeed beautiful.

Have you thought of populating the grounds with pets? Not horses as Aunt Amelia, but something smaller. A cat, perhaps. That would at least take some of the loneliness out of it. Whatever you do, however, stay clear of persians. I don?t know what it is about that particular breed, if it?s something in their blood or another reason, but by the Angel are they the bitchiest animals I?ve had the unfortunate experience of coming in contact with. I?ve now owned two in the last seven years. I speak from complete experience.

I could see neither one of you with a dog. Perhaps as a joke. You know now what to expect of me next Christmas.

I apologize for the mess. As I told you in my first letter, there?s much that I wish to say. Much that has happened to me. Much that I wished that at the time I had your presence to lean on.

Many things that I don?t know how to begin telling you.

Father was right. I am no longer in New York.

I left promptly at the end of June as per Salome?s assistance through a Portal. I recall nothing about my thoughts at the time, but part of me must have been longing for Idris because this town greatly resembles it.

There?s little technology, (yes, Mother, I?ve used a computer), save for very specific areas of the town and in a few more regions easily accessible to the public. The streets are cobbled, though I?ve seen plenty of vehicles making their way through. Horses and drawn carts, a sprawling marketplace and even a moderately sized dock that opens into a bay; and a sea further beyond. What sea it is escapes me. I, unfortunately, have had little interest in the town?s geography.

For now, with the money I?ve brought with me from New York, I?m staying at a rather comfortable inn that seems to be at the dead center of town. We see several people daily. We?ve our regulars and strangers like any similar establishment. I don?t consider myself a regular yet, but it suits my tastes enough to consider a longer stay.

And I?ve made friends.

For the most part, they?re women. Somehow I still find it easier to speak to them, beyond the fact that most men I come across are complete morons. That seems to be true no matter where I live.

Of these few friends, I have found someone to care for.

Her name is Lenore Reid.

I met her shortly after I came to town. August, I think.

I?ve never been very skilled at describing my feelings? On anything, be they a person or an inanimate object.

But, I know for certain that without her, I would not be where I am at this moment.

She?s saved me, more than once.

I will send a photo of the both of us that a mutual friend of ours has taken. Our outfits were necessary. We attended a ball to celebrate the holiday season, and this was the result. We did not stay long that night. In fact, we arrived rather fashionably late, through no fault but our own. I did have fun. I?ve found enjoyment in these outings. With friends, or with only a single companion.

There?s something else I?ve been meaning to tell the both of you. I just...have no way to start.

I?ll include one of the last business cards that I have. There?s a number on it that you can use to reach me. I?m sorry. But I fear that I can?t explain anything to you on paper. There?s too much a chance for me to edit, to paraphrase, to otherwise omit details.

There?s too much a chance that once I write it all out I will not send it to you.

I did not want to end this letter on such a note.

But I would look forward to hearing your voice. Both of your voices. This connection I have to you now is something that I have only thought longingly about. Once again, I want to tell you that I?m sorry for waiting so long to contact you. Now that I have, it seems like a such an easy thing that I could have done. I could have saved myself

I keep your letters and your photos safe and I reread them often. I?ve never doubted your concern, or your love. I?m grateful to have it. Now more than ever. And have I ever seemed otherwise, forgive me.

I?ll await anything that you will give me.

I love you both.

Crispin

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Crispin · Date: 2014-02-22 00:27 EST

January 12th

?

?

?

?

"Hello, this is Cris."

Exhale. "Crispin?? Is that, is it really?? Your voice is so deep now?"

Wood scrapes on wood.

"Mother?"

"Yes! Yes, my son, yes. It's me. Oh? Let me sit down, I feel faint."

"I've only said four words to you!"

"Yes, but you must understand that I haven't heard four words from you in seven years, Crispin. It's?it's so good to hear you again. I have a voice now to go with the picture of this handsome man you sent me."

"Lenore was in that photo too, you realize?"

"I do. She certainly makes quite the statement."

Snorts.

"Were those jewels pressed to her skin, or where they part of the dress? Either way, the design is beautiful."

"Tell me you've not been staring at her chest this entire time."

Laughter. "By the Angel, of course not. But she is rather beautiful, Crispin. How did you meet?"

"In a bar."

"How romantic! Hold on one moment, I'll get a glass of wine?"

"Wait---Mother?"

?

?

?

?

"You've my undying attention now, my son. I have my wine and I am comfortable. So?you met this woman in a bar?"

Exhale. "It's?more like an inn with a bar beneath it. The townsfolk call it the Red Dragon because there's a massive trophy of a red dragon's head mounted above the fireplace."

"A dragon's head. Angel's light, I wonder how they brought that down."

"I've actually seen one. A dragon."

"Truly! But are they not supposed to be extinct?"

"I thought the same. The dragon I see is not the same as in the stories, however."

"I'm sure there are stories about her kind of dragon, Crispin, but you've gone completely off topic. We were discussing Lenore. So. You met this woman in a bar. Or an inn, as you've said?"

"Yes."

"And what were you doing in this inn-bar?"

"It seems to be the hub, at the center of town. Nearly everyone who comes to town new ends up there at some point of their journey. I made it there the day after I arrived and I booked a room for myself. The rates seem very reasonable, most likely to accommodate the fact that some individuals truly show up there with nothing. I still stay here now?

"But at the time, I'd come down to make tea. They've a rather extensive selection. Nearly a hundred blends I've yet to try."

Laughter.

"It was early in the afternoon and there was hardly a crowd. I asked if she'd like a cup."

"Aaannnd? What did you talk about?"

"Oh, by the Angel, Mother, I don't know. That was months ago."

"If I asked her, I'm sure she would remember."

"Shall I let you speak to her? I'm sure she'll have a much more detailed version of this?"

"You'll not escape me that easily. Does she know of you?"

?

"Know of me?"

"?Well, you've been intimate with her, haven't you?"

?

?

?

"You did not honestly just ask me that question?"

"What?"

"We've not spoken in nearly eight years, and the first thing you think to ask me is if I've had sex with a woman?"

"Can you blame me? Crispin, you are a handsome young man, and this woman is clearly special to you---"

"Oh, for the Angel's sake? Yes, and yes, she knows of me, if you mean what I believe you to mean. I'd little choice."

"Hmm?"

?

?

"Are you happy with her?"

?

"I can't think of anywhere else I'd rather be."

?

?

"That gladdens my heart, Crispin? Truly? Oh, my." Sniff. "Now. Tell me of how you came to be in this town? You were never one for wanderlust, my son. We thought that you'd committed to living in New York City."

?

?

"It's?it's---complicated."

"Complicated? ?Well then. Salome is the one who sent you there, isn't she? In your last letter, you claimed not to have any idea where you wanted to go. It's a miracle you were not lost in transit."

?

?

?

"Crispin."

"Yes?"

"Is this difficult for you to discuss?"

?

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"It's more like?I know that once I begin, I do not know what will stop me."

"What's happened??"

?

Exhale.

?

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"Take your time, my son. I will go nowhere."

?

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Inhale. "You wrote about the Warlock that was killed. You and Father both wrote about her."

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"Go on, Crispin."

?

"Bianca Slate and Salome Mart?n were the two Warlocks that extended the offer for me to relocate to New York in the first place."

Gasp. "And so you knew her?"

"I loved her. Mother. I loved her. ?I was in love with her."

?

"Oh? Oh, Crispin?"

"I didn't plan on giving any thought to their offer at all. I'd thought to get rid of the damnable address they'd given me and forget all about it, but then Theron? Leena---"

?

?

?

"Shh, shh, darling?"

?

?

"No. I can't. I can't---stop---talking, otherwise I never will. ? Ask me. Ask me anything you'd like? Please, Mother."

?

?

"You met these Warlocks during the Battle of Brocelind? Afterward?"

"Beforehand, at the Accords Hall."

"Crispin. You know you weren't supposed to be anywhere near either one of those events. You were not old enough, my son, you'd barely turned seventeen!"

"It's a bit late to scold me on where I was and the decisions I've made."

"Yes? Yes, you're right. Still?"

"It was not that difficult to join the Downworlder crowd on its tidal wave into the Hall. I went more than unnoticed."

?

?

"I was there when Clarissa Morgenstern revealed her rune to us. And Bianca was the one I was bound to."

"Crispin?"

"We fought together. She was?incredible. She was clever and fast, and strong. And fearless. Distracting. After it was over, she asked if I'd ever left Idris. I told her very rarely. My trips to France, and lessons in Beijing. She gave me the address to the loft that she shared with Salome the night they left."

"We'd always wondered what it was that made you choose New York. We assumed it to be because it was ground zero for all the events that changed our world."

"No. It was only because I'd the offer to go. I knew I had a place to go, there. Others who were waiting for me."

"Warlocks, my son?"

?

?

"Yes, Warlocks. They helped me, Mother. The both of them. Salome still helps me even now."

?

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"I missed Leena. Mother, you haven't---you have friends. You have Father. You have the Clave. She was everything to me? When she died---"

"I know, Crispin. I know. I remember."

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"When I was with Bianca, it no longer felt like I had nothing. She saw me. She noticed when I was not there. She and Salome both. I had fun with them. Bianca even contributed money so that she may start her own consultation business, and I worked with them every day."

?

?

"We were all very close. I traveled with them. I was able to see much of the American countryside. I learned to drive a car---"

"Oh!"

"I'm not entirely confident in my skills, but I can at least keep it in a straight line."

Chuckles.

?

?

"Erm. Salome sent me here two months after Bianca died."

"Were you there?"

?

?

"When she was taken. Yes. I was."

"Taken?!"

"She was taken from the loft by what I could only presume was a team of Forsaken. They worked---in unison, if not together. We were only able to kill two of them, when the second pair surprised us. They took me down, and then Salome. When I awoke, she told me that Bianca was gone."

"Crispin, did you not think to report this to the New York Institute? They would have---"

"They would have gone after the creator of the Forsaken, not Bianca."

?

?

"Crispin?"

"I know they would have, Mother. The life of one Downworlder would not have been sufficient reasoning for a search party."

"Forsaken are created with our own Angel blessed instruments, my son. Not only that, but these things attacked you, they attacked your friends. The potential loss of your life would have given more than enough reason."

Exhale. "All that would have done was spur them forward in an attempts to find the Nephilim in question and hold them accountable. Not only would their target be wrong, they would not have gotten there in time.

"What was I to say to them? That I and my friends were nearly killed by Forsaken and I demand something be done about it? How---"

"It is a tool that you had at your disposal, Crispin. You could have had support. The Clave would not have been only hearing about this now."

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?

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"Neither one of you have specified how you heard of it in the first place, aside from what you learned from Harold."

"There is nothing else to specify. It was in his correspondence with us, and a matter of discussion during the brief times we returned to Idris. It seems that the culprit has vanished without a trace leaving little trail or clue to follow. The warehouse where they found the Forsaken corpses was the only lead the New York Institute had.

"But they did recognize the signatures of seraph blades on the wounds that some of the bodies had. The burns of Warlock fire and the torn flesh and missing limbs that speak of the Night Children's viciousness."

?

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"You tried, didn't you, Crispin?"

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"With everything that I had?" Inhale. "It was not enough. We did not get there in time. She'd been gone for ten days by then, and---and it showed."

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"You saw her body?"

?

?

"They destroyed her. They took her from me and they destroyed her, and I could do nothing about it this time just as much as---"

"Crispin, you must stop this? You knew nothing, do you hear, nothing about what happened to Evangeline and you may have been present for this but, sometimes---"

"Do not say it. Do not tell me that I did my best. If I had succeeded, at my best, she would be with me right now."

"And what of the life that you've built for yourself now? What of Lenore, what of the lessons you've learned?"

?

?

"All that I've learned, Mother, is that if I love them, they'll die."

"Crispin---"

"I have to go."

"Crispin?! Cris---"

CLICK

Crispin · Date: 2014-05-29 01:47 EST

May 27th

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?

?

?

"Vous avez atteint la r?sidence d'Ashwood. Veuillez nous laisser le temps de r?pondre. Merci."

"E---erm?"

?

"I'm sorry, I---I'd not thought through exactly what I was to say should neither of you pick up.

"I realized the date late into the evening as the eighteenth anniversary of your union? And?" Exhale. "I am a terrible liar.

"I wanted to call. Any excuse to do so beyond my own anxiety over doing it would have sufficed.

"There is no way to explain my behavior the last time Mother and I spoke. I just? It was very difficult topic for me to discuss and I forced myself into it despite that.

"But that was five months ago now, yes?? If you ever were cross with me over it, have you forgiven me?"

?

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"I, ahm? I miss you. Simply. Both of you. And I'd rather not allow the last time I spoke to either one of you be in the tone of a petulant child.

"Congratulations, Mother. Father. May the Angel's light continue to shine down upon you both for many more years.

"Goodbye."

CLICK

Crispin · Date: 2014-06-05 13:58 EST

The next day

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"Hello, this is---"

"Crispin."

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"You will speak when spoken to."

"Yes, Father."

"Did we raise you to be a coward, my son?"

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"No."

"Then why is it that it's taken you five months to return any of our calls?"

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"I've no explanation."

"None at all?"

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"No, sir."

"How old will you be upon your next birthday?"

"Twenty-five."

"Does this behavior reflect that?"

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"No. Sir."

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"Will you correct it?"

"Yes."

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"Hmmmm."

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"You will have to apologize to your mother."

"I know."

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Sigh.

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"It is good to hear your voice, Father."

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"And yours, my son."

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"Let us make a habit of that, mm?"

"Yes, Father."

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"Mmmhm."

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"I will call again soon. I promise."

"I know you will, son."

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"Goodbye, Father."

"Cris."

"Yes??"

"Thank you."

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"You're welcome, Father."

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Crispin · Date: 2015-07-05 20:26 EST

June 16th, 2015

Our dearest son,

Today you are twenty-six.

Knowing that yet another year has passed in your life fills us with such joy and yet sadness that we are unable to see it for ourselves. Your Warlock friend informs us that you have been keeping yourself busy with a broader circle of friends than what is customary. Her words, not ours, we promise. It truly gladdens our hearts to hear that you've found people to surround yourself with.

Our gift for you this year comes with a tinge of regret. I do not mean for our correspondence with you to always bring such sad tidings, my son, but much has changed since you've been gone. With regret, we must inform you that Master Zhuang has recently passed on. He was a kind, honorable man who asked after you often and it saddens us that you did not have the chance to visit with him one last time. He died a warrior's death in the service of the Angel and managed to take thirty-seven demons down with him at the height of battle.

It was found after his burial that he had left behind strict instructions on what was to become of his spare personal possessions and the monastery where he taught. To you, my son, was bequeathed the noble weapon, Steel of Paradise. He left a note to accompany the weapon and we will not spoil it by giving you a shortened version.

Happy birthday, my son. Enclosed you will also find the address of the closest maintained Portal to our home in France. Please consider visiting us soon. We miss you so.

May the Angel's strength and light find you wherever you are, even in your darkest hours.

We all our love,

Mother, Father

Ji?m?o (Eyelash),

The sword is yours. For the years you have stared at it, I now give you permission to touch. You were not my most skilled student, but you were the most tenacious, the most stubborn and the most relentless. I hope that you are still. You have a ferocity in you. A fire. Contain it well, and it will last to the end of your days.

You are worthy of the Steel of Paradise.

http://i1332.photobucket.com/albums/w615/crispinashwood/Closet/UT8oTSyXb0aXXagOFbXK_zpsn2q0mx4c.jpg

Crispin · Date: 2016-02-28 20:55 EST

Boy, don't you worry.
You'll find yourself.
Follow your heart,
And nothing else.
You can do this,
If you try.
All that I want for you my son,
Is to be satisfied.

Baby, be a simple, be a simple man
Oh, be something you love and understand
Baby, be a simple kind of man

Lynrd Skynyrd -- Simple Man

February 26th, 2016

"Vous avez atteint la r?sidence d'Ashwood. Veuillez nous laisser le temps de r?pondre. Merci."

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"I, erm---unfortunately, I hadn't planned on what to say. I apologize for the hour, if it's late or early. I should perhaps look into some sort of time conversion map."

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"A? Someone in town, a friend, introduced to me to a song that made me think of both of you. It was called Simple Man, and it was written as if from a parent to their child. When I mentioned that, she told me, merely, that I should call you."

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"I think of you often, though it does not show. I've never been particularly good at the maintenance of relationships. I've been doing well. Much better recently than when we last spoke. Time heals, regardless how slow acting of an ointment it is.

"I miss you both. And I do miss home.

"I hope you're both well too."

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"I love you."

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