Topic: Letters Home

Imrathion Tathar

Date: 2007-09-18 23:16 EST
After a long day spent reading all manner of books at the RhyDin public library, Glenn finally returned to his room in the late afternoon. He opened it, slung his knapsack off to the side, and quickly surveyed his surroundings. There was a beat-up, cheap looking desk that was currently covered in blocks of wood, nails that had spilled out of a box, pencils, rulers, and loose sheets of graphing paper he'd torn out of his notebook, complete with various designs for furniture and business cards. Glenn's dresser, equally scratched up, had a pile of new black and white t-shirts he had bought over the weekend piled on top of it, the smell of fresh cotton still on them. Most of the rest of his clothes were scattered on the floor, or draped over his desk chair; his dresser drawers were mostly empty and unused. The closet door was hanging open, revealing a ratty-looking black overcoat, a equally black cloak that looked too big for him, and a slew of unused hangers. The sheets on the bed were tangled up at the end of the bed. It'd been at least a week since he'd last attempted to make the bed.

Glenn sat down at the desk, his thoughts still racing. He could pick one of the books in his knapsack out and peruse it, but his eyes were already feeling more than a bit tired from his previous reading. But what else could he do? He wasn't hungry yet, and anyways, the Inn wouldn't have food ready for a while. He didn't have any projects to work on, or at least, nothing he could do in a small room with the limited tools he had available. He sat there, staring down at his desk, tapping an index finger against his forehead. Suddenly, he bolted upright and snapped his fingers. That's it! I'll start writing letters home now! I've been in RhyDin, what, six months now? They're probably wondering what I'm up to. The grin on his face faded somewhat at his next thought. If they even care at all. Glenn searched his desk quickly, then his knapsack, finally finding what he wanted. His notebook of graphing paper. He scrutinized it for a moment, then tossed it onto his bed. That wouldn't do. That wouldn't do at all. He was writing for the first time in months. The paper he used had to be nicer than that. And he should use a nice pen too. But he didn't have those things! The answer came to him quickly, and it caused him to sigh a little bit. He would just have to go out and buy some stationery. Plain white paper without lines or a grid. And a nice quill pen, too, and an ink stopper. Or maybe a fountain pen. Glenn couldn't decide, and he knew the only way he'd be able to make a decision was in person. He walked over to his closet, gathered up his cloak, and made his way out the door.

Imrathion Tathar

Date: 2007-09-19 23:48 EST
It took Glenn a while to find the store he was looking for. Most of the time, when he went shopping, it was for things he absolutely needed: food, clothing, materials for building furniture. He knew what he wanted, found it as fast as possible, paid his bill, and left. But stationery? He hadn't what he wanted to buy, or where to even buy it. That's why he spent a good portion of his afternoon walking around the marketplace and the buildings surrounding it, looking for a store that looked like it had what he wanted. Finally, took a closer look at a sign on one of the stores he had passed two or three times, and saw the magic words he was looking for: ?Pens, Paper, Envelopes sold here!? Then, upon further analysis of the sign hanging above the sidewalk, he saw the store's name, in big black letters: ?Swann's Stationery.? Glenn sighed, then pushed open the door to the shop.

A bell chimed merrily as the door opened and closed. Glenn was surprised by two things in the shop. It was a lot smaller and a lot more cluttered than he'd expected. There were two rows of shelves on either side of the store that ran front to back, a small counter with a cash register, and a couple of display cases on either side of that counter. These held some of the more expensive goods (mostly pens of all sorts, but some ink stoppers were in there as well). The shelves were stacked haphazardly with various types and colors of notebooks, lined and unlined loose leaf paper, scrolls, envelopes, and other similar products, ranging from white to pink to black, although Glenn couldn't figure out why anyone would use some of the more outlandish colors. Bright yellow? Come on, he thought. There was a door to a back room behind the counter, but he imagined the back was even more of a disaster. That door quickly opened, and a thin, sprightly old woman stepped out and greeted him. Her hair was grey and wispy, hanging down just to her shoulder, but her ice-blue eyes glittered full of life, and there was no stoop in her back or hitch in her step.

?How are you doing today, sir??

?Uh, good??

?Is there something I can help you find?? The woman folded her hands behind her back and looked at him quizzically.

?Well, I need some nice paper. And a pen. And envelopes. And wax to seal them with.? There was a pause in between each statement, as Glenn slowly realized how much of the requisite materials for letter writing he didn't have. The owner smiled broadly, and stepped out into the center of the store.

?Well, this is the right place. Did you want a certain color or style or material??

?Uh, white would be fine. I just need something for writing letters.?

?Oh, letters? To whom? Friends, family? A lover?? She lowered her voice for the last statement, then winked at Glenn, causing him to blush.

?Just friends and family.?

?Well, you should probably use white,? the storekeeper said, sounding just a touch disappointed. Somehow, she managed to find the exact shelf that contained white letter paper. She grabbed one of the bundles and tossed it to Glenn, who nearly fumbled it before he got a solid grip on it. ?Now envelopes, you can use pretty much any color you want. Got a favorite color??

?Green?? She frowned slightly.

?Well, maybe not that color.? She grabbed a stack of envelopes that was ivory-colored, and tossed it to him. He caught it, balancing it on the stack of paper he already had. ?That'll stand out a little more in the post than plain white. Now as for wax ?"

?Red,? Glenn interrupted.

??Is a good choice. Do you have a signet?? Glenn nodded. ?Good. We can skip that step.? She went in the back, quickly emerging with a small jar. She handed it to him, setting it on top of the paper and envelopes he was already carrying. She then walked back to the counter, beckoning him to follow. He did, setting down his burden on the counter as soon as he could. ?What kind of pen are you looking for??

?Well, I'm not sure. Either a quill or a fountain pen.? The owner smiled, opening up the display cases, pulling out what looked like a feather, a tiny vial of blue ink, and a sheet of paper that bore the countless signatures of others. She then pulled out another pen, a fountain one, with a dark metallic green body and stainless steel cap and nib. Glenn immediately grabbed the fountain pen, and signed his name in near-perfect cursive. She chuckled at the signature.

?That's boring. Here ? ? she took the pen out of his hands before he could protest, and signed her own name. The only letter he could recognize (barely) was the ?S,? although it looked more like the number 8 or a musical clef on sheet music. The rest was scribbles to him. ?There. That's a signature. You should be more daring in your signature. Here, try it.? She forced the pen back into his hand. Glenn tried to scribble out something that resembled his name, but was more ornate.

?This-this is a good pen.? Nothing like the pencils he was used to writing with. They required effort, physical force on the paper to make their mark. This felt effortless, like his hand and pen were floating over the page, and the words just seemed to magically appear. He didn't even bother to test the quill pen. ?I'll take this. And the rest of the stuff up here.? He swept his hand over to the other supplies she had picked out for him.

?A wise choice,? she said, grinning as she rung up his purchase. ?I'll even throw in some extra ink and a nib, free of charge.? She took the paper products he'd bought, putting them in a paper bag, then placed the pen, back-up nib, and extra ink in a mahogany pen case. The case, and the jar of wax, went into a smaller fabric bag. ?Be careful with those,? she said, as Glenn handed over his payment.

?I will. And thanks for the help.?

?If you want to help me,? she said, smile still on her face, ?tell your friends Swann sold you your stationery.?

?Will do. Have a nice day,? Glenn said with a wave. He opened the door and stepped outside. He could faintly hear the chime behind him as he shut the door and re-entered the marketplace streets.

Imrathion Tathar

Date: 2007-09-20 22:37 EST
The first letter was the easiest for Glenn to write. Almost as soon as he returned from the stationery store, he decided to write to Thane. Thane was the last person he had talked to before he had left Blackbridge for RhyDin, and he was also the owner of Glenn's (and Glenn's parents) old furniture store. And what with all the craziness going on lately, he could use something to take his mind off of things. He could almost hear Thane's voice, almost as booming as his father's but more capable of being quiet, caring, introspective. He imagined the letter was a conversation, and someday Thane would send back his side of it. He took out the fountain pen, a clean sheet of paper, an ivory envelope, and some sealing wax, and began scribbling away at the page in that perfect scripted lettering of his.

Dear Thane,

How's business going? Well, I hope. I didn't ask you what you named it when I left. You should send me a letter back and let me know. If you need any help dealing with the elves, let me know. They should honor our bargain, but I can try to help you out as best I can from here if you need it.

Things are going alright here. I did some demolition work for a while, but that wasn't really my thing. I've been doing odd jobs, trying to save enough money up to start my own store here, but it's tough. Everything's a lot more expensive, and it's hard to find space that isn't already taken. RhyDin's not the paradise people say it is, but it's not too bad. I've made a few friends, and I'll make a few more hopefully.

If you see James or Kathryn around, let them know I said ?hello? and that I miss them. Also say ?hi? to Brendan and Murph and the rest of the old gang for me. Good luck with your store, and I look forward to hearing from you, and hopefully seeing you again.

Sincerely,

Glenn

The easy part was done, Glenn thought, as he carefully applied the wax to the envelope and pressed his father's oak tree signet onto it, sealing the letter inside. It was going to be harder to find the right words to say for the rest of the people on his list. The way things were going lately though, he would have plenty of time to think it over.

Imrathion Tathar

Date: 2007-09-21 19:23 EST
Glenn had holed up in his room the last couple of days, only leaving when absolutely necessary. He had skimmed through the old broadsheets he had strewn about countless times, until there was not a scrap of fresh news to be found in those papers. He had finished reading all of the books he had borrowed from the library, save for the book of elven poetry, which he still couldn't make heads or tails of. He was bored. And though he wasn't sure he could find the right words, he couldn't think of anything better to do but write another letter home. This one to his cousin Kathryn. Glenn wasn't exactly sure what she was up to, or even where she was living. The last he knew, she had been in the final stages of her healer's apprenticeship (overseen her mother, Aunt Kyla, of course), but she must be done with that by now, right? He thought a bit longer, vaguely remembering Kathryn taking over much of her mother's ?business? as a healer while she was treating his mother. There hadn't been much of a goodbye between the two of them. Glenn had dropped by unannounced when he thought Aunt Kyla wouldn't be there, but she had returned and kicked him out before Glenn could tell Kathryn most of what he had wanted to. Assuming she still lived at home, or that Aunt Kyla would forward the letter on, this letter was his chance to say those things.

Dear Kathryn,

I know I didn't get much of a chance to say goodbye to you when I left. I know you know that Aunt Kyla hates me, but I hope you don't think that I return her anger. I still love her as I always have, like a son loves their momma. I also hope that you still consider me to be your cousin, as I do. And I'm sorry if anything I've done has caused problems between you and your momma. Never in a thousand years would I want that to happen, and I'm sorry if it did.

Anyways, how's life? I never got the chance to ask what you were doing. Are you still working with Aunt Kyla, or did you go off on your own? Either way, I hope business is good (but not too good). I know you're doing fine, wherever you are.

Things are alright here. It took me a little while to find work, and things cost a bit more here, but I'm getting by. RhyDin's not perfect, like everyone always says, but it's not awful. I'm saving up to open a new store soon.

I don't know where you are living now. I have sent this letter to Aunt Kyla, with the hopes that she will forward it on to you if you are not living at home anymore. Either way, if she asks you who sent this letter, please don't tell her I sent it. I look forward to hearing from you, and hopefully seeing you again.

Sincerely,

Glenn

He set the pen down and off to the side with a satisfied sigh. Glenn quickly folded the letter up and slid it inside the envelope. On the outside of the envelope, he wrote his cousin's name and address on the front, but left his name off the return address. He sealed the letter shut with wax, but did not apply the identifying signet to it. The red wax seemed blank and empty to him, and he hoped that the letter would not be mislaid, or its meaning misconstrued.

Imrathion Tathar

Date: 2007-11-05 22:14 EST
Things had gotten better and worse in the month and a half or so since Glenn had written and sent out his first small batch of letters. He hadn't heard anything back from his best friend or his cousin, but he wasn't sure if it was because mail took a while to get from RhyDin to Blackbridge, or if the letters never made it, or if the recipients just didn't bother to respond. He hoped there was just a delivery delay, and not something worse.

Things were better because the city was no longer plagued by zombies. Things were worse, though, because new problems had crept up to replace the old ones, threatening to overwhelm Glenn. Too much violence at the Red Dragon Inn meant he was spending as little time there as possible, with the time there spent trying and failing to get to sleep. Sleep was also made difficult by the fact that his mind was becoming more and more preoccupied with his secret, as he grew closer and closer to the friends he had made in RhyDin recently. Soon, he would have to tell them all. But the uncertainty of it all haunted his mind, made it restless, made it difficult to fall asleep and stay asleep. What would they say? Would they hold it against him, like some of the elves did? Would they ignore it? Would they hate him?

Tonight was another one of those nights of insomnia for Glenn. The midnight hour had come and gone, and pretty soon, Glenn would have to light another candle if he wanted to continue his early morning without darkness. He had just finished reading, scanning, and memorizing a few choice sonnets from a book he'd recently borrowed, and was still wide awake. Then, he had a thought. I'll write James. He has a secret too. He quickly lit another candle to replace the one that was fading, and pulled out a sheet of stationary and his trusty fountain pen.

***

Dear James,

I'm glad I got to see you one last time before I left for RhyDin. I'm sorry I didn't write you sooner. I've been very busy with work here. I've been trying to save up money to open my own shop again, but it's tough. Hopefully things have been going better with you and the free healer clinic. Don't let anyone think that just because you treat elves as well as humans, that you're not as good a healer as those like Aunt Kyla, who charge everybody. You're just as important as she is. Someday, Aunt Kyla will see past everything and see that in you.

Anyways, I was writing to let you know how I'm doing in RhyDin, to see how you were doing, and something else. I have something to admit. Remember when you told me your secret and asked me if I had one of my own? I said I didn't, but I was lying. I'm not ready to say what it is yet, although it isn't the secret you have, but I still wanted to say I'm sorry for lying to you. I know it was hard, dealing with everything Aunt Kyla did to you, and I didn't support as well as I could have, although hopefully you still considered me helpful. I hope you will forgive me, and still see me as you did before, as a brother as well as a cousin. And someday, when I am able to tell you my secret, I hope you will be understanding of why I kept it secret so long and will support me, even if it is from far away.

I look forward to hearing from and seeing you again someday.

Sincerely,

Glenn

Glenn quickly folded the letter up and stuck it inside the ivory envelope. He applied the red wax to the envelope, closing the letter inside, and then pressed his oak tree signet into the wax. When he was done, Glenn blew out the candle sitting on his desk, but did not stand up and go to bed. Instead, he sat in his rickety chair, in complete darkness, trying to decide what to do next.

Imrathion Tathar

Date: 2008-01-27 20:10 EST
Things had been hectic around the holidays, to say the least. Between dealing with the explosion at the Stitch, buying and making presents for his friends, and crafting gifts to sell to others, he hadn't been able to find too much time to write more letters home. He hadn't received any letters back yet, either, but he had been far too busy to think about that fact until January rolled around. Things had finally gotten slower, but he'd also had some problems with his hands. First, from working too hard during the holiday season, and then from an errant bullet from some pirate's pistol. Fortunately, both injuries had been healed, and he was finally able to find the time to sit down and write another letter. Or series of letters, as it turned out.

He actually went and purchased several holiday cards (on deep discount at the stationery store since they were now far out of season) and wrote simple holiday greetings to several of his friends and family back in Blackbridge. Images of snow-blown fields, icicles dangling from tree branches, fires crackling in the hearth, and some bizarre-looking fellow named ?Santa Claus? decorated the cards he sent. They were sent to many of his old friends and family: Thane, Brendan, Murph, James, Kathryn. Even Haleigh was sent one. After those were finished, Glenn started working on one last note, for his youngest cousin, Corey.

Glenn didn't know if this one would make it to its intended recipient, for reasons beyond the fact that mail between Rhydin and Blackbridge seemed to be slow in arriving (if it even arrived at all). Corey was 14 years old, and to the best of his knowledge, still lived with Aunt Kyla. There was a good chance that if the letter was identified as having come from Glenn, Corey would never see it. It would get thrown in the trash, unread. So Glenn didn't seal the letter with his normal signet, just a coating of unmarked red wax. He made his handwriting a little sloppier than normal when addressing the letter, just to be careful. Inside the letter, he put a pair of coins: a Rhydinian copper and silver piece. The ?head? of each coin was a roaring dragon, and the "tail" was a picture of the Rhydin Courthouse. He hoped that Corey still enjoyed collecting coins, even thought it had been a while since he'd seen him.

***

Dear Corey,

Hey, how are you doing? I'm doing pretty good. I don't know if your mom told you or not, but I moved away from Blackbridge. There's a lot of stuff that happened to me, and I needed to get a new start somewhere else. I still love you and Aunt Kyla and James and Kathryn, but sometimes you have to leave a place if you want things to be better. I'm much happier now that I'm here in Rhydin (that's right, Rhydin!). Someday I hope to come back and visit all of you, if your mom will let me. I don't know what your mom said about me, and why you can't see me, but I want you to know that I don't hate you. It hurts me that I can't see you anymore like I used to, and someday I hope Aunt Kyla will let me see you, before you grow up. Please don't believe everything she says about me. I'm sure she's said a lot of bad things about me, but not all of them are true.

Anyways, I haven't always been able to get you stuff for the solstice, and I know it's a little late now, but things've been really busy here. I started a new store and made some new friends and I've been working a lot on making stuff for other people. I know you don't really like kid toys anymore, but I figured you might like these. These are some of the coins people use in Rhydin. A lot of people use a lot of different kinds of coins, but most of the time they use gold, silver, and copper coins. These are the coins I usually carry around with me. I don't know if you collect coins or not, but if you don't, you should be able to get them exchanged for Blackbridge money, and spend that on something you want. Anyways, happy belated solstice, and I hope that I can see you again someday.

Sincerely,

Glenn

Imrathion Tathar

Date: 2009-05-14 13:07 EST
?The thought of the catacombs left my soul at home
This letter never sent
And it's so far, it's so dark, I'm so lost?

(R.E.M., ?Letter Never Sent?)

In the end, after countless attempts and sheets of paper crumpled up, torn up, and tossed in the trash, Glenn gave up on writing a letter to Carley.

Most tries didn't get much farther than the salutation. He couldn't decide what was an appropriate greeting for her. Carley? Dear Carley? C~? Was the ?dear? uncalled for? Did he even have the right to call her ?dear? anymore? Was ?Carley? too clinical, sterile, unfeeling? Was ?C~? too personal, too familiar, too intimate? After the first few struggles with the introduction, Glenn had given up on using his nice stationary to write the letter, and switched over to loose leaf lined paper, like the kind he used to take notes in class.

From there, it only got more difficult. What was the first thing he should say? ?How're you doing?? seemed at once too casual and almost cruel; even before the break-up, he knew she'd been having a hard time dealing with the drift between herself and the Stitch in Time's co-owners. Glenn had a pretty good idea what the answer to that question would be, so it didn't really need to be asked. But should he just start flat-out by apologizing? But even that seemed destined to bring more heart ache and pain to Carley. ?I'm sorry I didn't love you, because I'm still in love with my first girlfriend who lives in a place I can probably never go back to and besides, is dating one of my old friends? wouldn't smooth things over in the slightest. And he wasn't about to apologize for leaving her to go to Sygil to study magic. No, this was the best way for him to accomplish his most important personal goals, even if he had to sacrifice one in the process.

Finally, he realized that there was no guarantee that even if he completed a letter, that she was still living in the apartment at Econ-Omni in WestEnd. Even though time flowed faster in Sygil than in RhyDin, he knew that things could change in the blink of an eye in the city. The apartment could have been condemned, or leveled by some magic attack, or she could have just gotten fed up with living in the WestEnd. He could have asked some of her friends where she was, but he either didn't know them very well, or wasn't on speaking terms with them.

No, it wasn't worth the effort and struggle to write this letter if there was no guarantee it would be delivered. Glenn came to this realization one evening, when he returned to it yet again after completing an essay on the pros and cons of necromancy. It only took a few minutes of staring at a blank sheet of paper, frozen by his inability to think of what to say, when he finally resigned himself to the inevitable. The letter was never going to be written, was never going to be sent, and he was better off spending his time and energy working on tasks less Sisyphean. He set his pen down on the desk slowly, and sighed a sigh that was equal parts relief and melancholy.

Imrathion Tathar

Date: 2009-05-24 13:11 EST
H~,

I know we haven't talked in a really long time, and I haven't even written you a letter. You haven't written me any letters either, but that's alright. I know a little bit about what's happened from talking to Thane before I left and the letters he's written since then. It's been a while since I've gotten one from him but I still have a good idea what's going on.

You and Murph are still together, and I hope, I really do, that by the time you get this that you two are still together. I don't know very much about you two and what you have, but if you've been together this long it must be serious. I know you don't need it, but for what it's worth, you have my blessing, and I'm not angry anymore about it.

You probably won't see me again, and you probably won't write me back, but I don't really expect anything like that out of you anymore. I wish you and Murph all the happiness you can get, and all the happiness that escaped us while we were together and that has escaped me since.

G~

Imrathion Tathar

Date: 2009-06-15 20:06 EST
Aunt Kyla,

I'm not really sure what I should say to you. I don't even know if you'll read this or not, since you're so mad at me, but I really hope you do. I'm not mad at you, even though I know some people would probably say I have very good reason to be mad at you. I won't lie. What you said and did to me hurt me really badly, and I'm not entirely healed.

But I forgive you. I've learned a lot since I left Blackbridge, and I've been a lot of places and seen a lot of things. And I know that the worst thing I can do is be mad at you and let that ruin everything else in my life and my memories of you. I want to remember you the way you were when you treated me like I was your own child, just like James and Kathryn and Corey. I think if I think like that, if I ever see you again, I'll be better able to do whatever it is you want me to do to get back in favor with you.

If you do read this, please don't let your anger to me stop you from telling Kathryn and Corey how much I miss them and how sorry I am that I haven't gotten them birthday presents this year. I'm in a place where time passes really weirdly and I didn't want to send something that would end up arriving two years after I sent it and not really be a good present anymore, or have it get all messed up going between worlds. Also, I know you don't talk to James anymore, but I really wish you would find him and tell him that you don't care what he is. It doesn't define him as a person in a way that matters at all, just like what I am doesn't define me. It is our feelings and the way we treat people and the friends we have that are most important to who we are, not facts about ourselves we can't change. I really hope someday you can realize that about me and James, and that you'll be able to care for James again. And if I ever see you in person again, that you can do the same for me. Until that day, I'll be waiting.

Love,

Glenn