((Written the night after she departed from him at the Market Place, Sent to him the following day.))
The raven remained perched in the upper branches of a barren tree that stood along the path between Alain's residence and place of work. It nestled there silently and therefore could be easily missed by anyone. Though, if noticed, two items would stand out. Firstly, this bird was nearly twice as large as the common ravens. Secondly, within the bird's beak was held a tarnished silver envelope. The bird sat and waited, watching as people and other beings went by. Were it troubled by anything, the raven would take wing and return once trouble had gone. When Alain walked pass the bird's head would cant as if considering the man. If Alain was not alone, the bird would remain within the tree. Once Alain passed without company the bird would glide down, large wings keeping it held in the air in front of the man just above his reach... allowing a few heartbeats to pass before dropping the envelope it carried into Alain's care.
Inspecting the outside of the letter: It was not address to anyone. The back fold sealed with a deep red wax, imprinted with the image of a flame.
Inside the envelope held a letter. The curving handwriting was easily legible, flowing in even neat lines.
Alain,
As I sit down and prepare to tell you all I can, I feel as though I am writing my own confession. In my knowledge, there is only one other who can tell you much about my childhood... as most who were part of it have crossed through the veil. It is my hope that what I tell you now will guide you in the search that will allow me to know my true nature.
Understand, please, that for the first seven years of my life I did not know there was anything different about me. I lived in a small cottage, in the middle of the woods far away from the world and those in it. The closest town, Delvain, was several days away. All that existed in my world for the longest time was my mother and the man that I thought to be my father. My last name was Noir... my mother's maiden name is Nyte.
That man was not a kind man. He was not harsh with hand, but cold in nature and word. When he was away working in the woods my mother blossomed. She sang and told me stories of those creatures that lived in realms near her home of Nihain, a small village in Aulan. When her husband was around, she withered. Quiet and removed, a vessel responding automatically to commands. As a child I thought perhaps my father would have loved me if I did not look so much like her. Until I found out why it was he truly hated me.
My loneliness was spared for a while. One day in the woods I met a lad a little older than myself, Xander Dyrhart. We had to meet in secret, but it was a delight having someone to talk to. Though, my mother's heath soon kept me from seeing him. When I told him I would not be able to visit he gave me a token... a little pewter ring. This detail might seem trivial now, but I am not hiding anything from you, Alain, and so this too I must confess,
During my seventh year my mother was so stricken that she could not leave her bed. I took up care of the home, but as hard as I tried I could never earn my father's favor. He started being gone longer, and I was often alone watching my mother die.
The day of her death was a dark one. Father had been gone for several days and again I was along at her side. I remember her turning to me, her hand reaching out, and her lips forming word her voice would not make. I clung to her hand, straining and hoping to pull whatever my mother's last wish or will into understanding. My need was so great...
Images filled my mind and I saw my mother's life.... relived in vague understanding for the most part. A regular childhood with her parents and siblings, childhood friends, men who had courted her. It had not been her wish to marry the man I knew as my father, but she did it for the honor of her family. As the images progressed the emotions my mother felt became real and solid to me. She had been lonely. Bound by duty. Unloved by the man her father had given her to. Her husband had started an inn, called The Travelers? Way, many miles away from her family, and moved her in there. The only company she kept was those of the patrons she waited on, and many of them were only stopping during travels from one place to another. There were a few regulars... and one that stood out amongst the rest. He came and sang songs for those who were gathered. His voice was gifted by the gods themselves and his words wove images of tales in your mind. He was a tall man, he almost looked to have a touch of fae to him. But he would laugh such a notion off. Fehalix Forrows, he claimed to be. He always had a kind word or a gift for my mother. Somehow through his many visits she grew to love him. It happened some night, her husband was called away and the minstrel found his way to her bed. She did not refuse him. She gave herself entirely to the traveling stranger, feeling with him something she had never felt with the man she called husband for nearly ten years. It happened several times. Eventually my mother fell pregnant. It was possible that her husband was the father... but in her heart she knew he wasn't. It had been many years, after all, without child. She told her husband though, and treated it as though it was his. Months went by, her pregnancy staring to show, when next her lover visited her. Again, her husband was gone... and her lover rejoiced at the news of the life that she carried. They were resting in each other's arms when her husband returned. Without warning he grabbed the man from her arms and ran his blade along the man's throat. Rivers of blood ran through my mind, the sensation of such loss.
The hate in her husband's eyes. The same echo I saw everyday throughout my life. He had not killed her, though he wanted to. He spared her for the life of an innocent. But he did not spare her entirely. That is why they moved so far away, from everything. Her life would now become her punishment for making him the fool. That is why he hated me... I looked too much like her and nothing like him or the lover. He could never tell whose child I truly was.
When my mind came to me again, my mother was dead.
I left the house, blinded by tears. I ran into the woods, hoping to find my friend Xander. It was his house I was trying to find... but it was my father that I came across. He with his arm about a young woman, leading her into a small cabin at the edge of the woods. My heart stopped and I was filled with rage. He had made my mother suffer for so long, and here he was committing the same crime. How could he know if his wife was dead? But then again why would he care? I followed them. I went into the house after them. There was an exchange. He asked me what I was doing there and I told him mother had died. He didn't even care. He told me to leave but I could not. For the first time ever he raised his hand to hit me. And that was the last thing he ever did.
I felt the rushing of fire. I did not understand what had happened, only that I was the cause of it. The cabin was consumed by fire. My mother's husband and his lover trapped inside. I ran, not noticing that at some point I had lost the ring given to me by Xander.
Many years went by. Many things happened. Several incidents wherein the flame has consumed me and damage was done. I do not include these stories in this letter because they have little to do with my birth. But know that if you want that information, I will freely give it. I do not know if it is my father's blood or those things that I have gone through, but at times madness has taken me.
That is why I now stay well away from people for the most part. I do not wish to be the bringer of more damage.
Xander is alive. Ten years ago he found me and confronted me. The ring he had given me left at the scene of the deaths of his mother and the man who had become like a father to him. The same man, who never gave me such love and attention, had given it to this random lad. Xander had come for answers and with a willingness to kill me. I told him that which I have just shared with you... and he spared me. I do not know where Xander is now... nor if he would be any help to you. I don't know if any of these details I have shared will be helpful to you. Perhaps I have shared too much.
Izira Nyte
Behind the letter was a hand drawn map. A way for him to find her at her home The Forgotten Layers Inn from the Red Dragon Inn.
The raven remained perched in the upper branches of a barren tree that stood along the path between Alain's residence and place of work. It nestled there silently and therefore could be easily missed by anyone. Though, if noticed, two items would stand out. Firstly, this bird was nearly twice as large as the common ravens. Secondly, within the bird's beak was held a tarnished silver envelope. The bird sat and waited, watching as people and other beings went by. Were it troubled by anything, the raven would take wing and return once trouble had gone. When Alain walked pass the bird's head would cant as if considering the man. If Alain was not alone, the bird would remain within the tree. Once Alain passed without company the bird would glide down, large wings keeping it held in the air in front of the man just above his reach... allowing a few heartbeats to pass before dropping the envelope it carried into Alain's care.
Inspecting the outside of the letter: It was not address to anyone. The back fold sealed with a deep red wax, imprinted with the image of a flame.
Inside the envelope held a letter. The curving handwriting was easily legible, flowing in even neat lines.
Alain,
As I sit down and prepare to tell you all I can, I feel as though I am writing my own confession. In my knowledge, there is only one other who can tell you much about my childhood... as most who were part of it have crossed through the veil. It is my hope that what I tell you now will guide you in the search that will allow me to know my true nature.
Understand, please, that for the first seven years of my life I did not know there was anything different about me. I lived in a small cottage, in the middle of the woods far away from the world and those in it. The closest town, Delvain, was several days away. All that existed in my world for the longest time was my mother and the man that I thought to be my father. My last name was Noir... my mother's maiden name is Nyte.
That man was not a kind man. He was not harsh with hand, but cold in nature and word. When he was away working in the woods my mother blossomed. She sang and told me stories of those creatures that lived in realms near her home of Nihain, a small village in Aulan. When her husband was around, she withered. Quiet and removed, a vessel responding automatically to commands. As a child I thought perhaps my father would have loved me if I did not look so much like her. Until I found out why it was he truly hated me.
My loneliness was spared for a while. One day in the woods I met a lad a little older than myself, Xander Dyrhart. We had to meet in secret, but it was a delight having someone to talk to. Though, my mother's heath soon kept me from seeing him. When I told him I would not be able to visit he gave me a token... a little pewter ring. This detail might seem trivial now, but I am not hiding anything from you, Alain, and so this too I must confess,
During my seventh year my mother was so stricken that she could not leave her bed. I took up care of the home, but as hard as I tried I could never earn my father's favor. He started being gone longer, and I was often alone watching my mother die.
The day of her death was a dark one. Father had been gone for several days and again I was along at her side. I remember her turning to me, her hand reaching out, and her lips forming word her voice would not make. I clung to her hand, straining and hoping to pull whatever my mother's last wish or will into understanding. My need was so great...
Images filled my mind and I saw my mother's life.... relived in vague understanding for the most part. A regular childhood with her parents and siblings, childhood friends, men who had courted her. It had not been her wish to marry the man I knew as my father, but she did it for the honor of her family. As the images progressed the emotions my mother felt became real and solid to me. She had been lonely. Bound by duty. Unloved by the man her father had given her to. Her husband had started an inn, called The Travelers? Way, many miles away from her family, and moved her in there. The only company she kept was those of the patrons she waited on, and many of them were only stopping during travels from one place to another. There were a few regulars... and one that stood out amongst the rest. He came and sang songs for those who were gathered. His voice was gifted by the gods themselves and his words wove images of tales in your mind. He was a tall man, he almost looked to have a touch of fae to him. But he would laugh such a notion off. Fehalix Forrows, he claimed to be. He always had a kind word or a gift for my mother. Somehow through his many visits she grew to love him. It happened some night, her husband was called away and the minstrel found his way to her bed. She did not refuse him. She gave herself entirely to the traveling stranger, feeling with him something she had never felt with the man she called husband for nearly ten years. It happened several times. Eventually my mother fell pregnant. It was possible that her husband was the father... but in her heart she knew he wasn't. It had been many years, after all, without child. She told her husband though, and treated it as though it was his. Months went by, her pregnancy staring to show, when next her lover visited her. Again, her husband was gone... and her lover rejoiced at the news of the life that she carried. They were resting in each other's arms when her husband returned. Without warning he grabbed the man from her arms and ran his blade along the man's throat. Rivers of blood ran through my mind, the sensation of such loss.
The hate in her husband's eyes. The same echo I saw everyday throughout my life. He had not killed her, though he wanted to. He spared her for the life of an innocent. But he did not spare her entirely. That is why they moved so far away, from everything. Her life would now become her punishment for making him the fool. That is why he hated me... I looked too much like her and nothing like him or the lover. He could never tell whose child I truly was.
When my mind came to me again, my mother was dead.
I left the house, blinded by tears. I ran into the woods, hoping to find my friend Xander. It was his house I was trying to find... but it was my father that I came across. He with his arm about a young woman, leading her into a small cabin at the edge of the woods. My heart stopped and I was filled with rage. He had made my mother suffer for so long, and here he was committing the same crime. How could he know if his wife was dead? But then again why would he care? I followed them. I went into the house after them. There was an exchange. He asked me what I was doing there and I told him mother had died. He didn't even care. He told me to leave but I could not. For the first time ever he raised his hand to hit me. And that was the last thing he ever did.
I felt the rushing of fire. I did not understand what had happened, only that I was the cause of it. The cabin was consumed by fire. My mother's husband and his lover trapped inside. I ran, not noticing that at some point I had lost the ring given to me by Xander.
Many years went by. Many things happened. Several incidents wherein the flame has consumed me and damage was done. I do not include these stories in this letter because they have little to do with my birth. But know that if you want that information, I will freely give it. I do not know if it is my father's blood or those things that I have gone through, but at times madness has taken me.
That is why I now stay well away from people for the most part. I do not wish to be the bringer of more damage.
Xander is alive. Ten years ago he found me and confronted me. The ring he had given me left at the scene of the deaths of his mother and the man who had become like a father to him. The same man, who never gave me such love and attention, had given it to this random lad. Xander had come for answers and with a willingness to kill me. I told him that which I have just shared with you... and he spared me. I do not know where Xander is now... nor if he would be any help to you. I don't know if any of these details I have shared will be helpful to you. Perhaps I have shared too much.
Izira Nyte
Behind the letter was a hand drawn map. A way for him to find her at her home The Forgotten Layers Inn from the Red Dragon Inn.