Dear Alferwen
Hopefully you’ve got someone to read this for you. I’m sorry I haven’t been around so much. But I’ve got a story to tell you, of someone who thought she’d never amount to nothing; that she was going to be a thief her whole life, looked down on by those high up, and no-one could change that.
But then someone very important changed that. Aloysius made the small folk of this city feel like they were special. Like they could dare to dream of being better. And I dreamed big, Alferwen. I dressed up posh in clothes I nicked from the Temple of St John, and I got a whole heap of money when us and Blackthorn and Rowan went to fight the tax collectors. (I hope those as who it should have gone back to weren’t too bad off. It weren’t a good thing that I did in Crafter’s eyes, and I see why he never picked me to be his.) And none of those Light college porters as was always throwing me out before recognised me, and I walked right on in!
So here’s a twist in the story, Alferwen. I needed a new name; Val isn’t the kind of name a posh wizard should have. Highborn girls are named after flowers and things, so I called myself Dahlia. I’ve been in the Wessex Arms in disguise the whole time. It was a lot of effort to remember to keep talking straight, but I managed.
And it’s amazing how people treat you different. I don’t even know if they realise they do it, but a suggestion that came out of my mouth when dressed grubby carried so much less weight than what I said when looking posh. And that’s what Aloysius wanted people to see; that your wealth isn’t your worth.
This brings me on to the point of this letter. You know about the demon that’s been stealing people’s eyes. All we’ve been doing here has been damage control, and it’s not enough. Yuta, Talis and I are going to go to its plane and kick its teeth in so it can’t hurt no-one no more. Maybe we can do this and it’ll be over soon and I’ll be back, but, well, it sounds awful difficult, Alferwen. And my boys and girls haven’t got no eyes, and I won’t be around to look after them. So if I don’t come back I want you to watch out for them, at least until this thing is dead and they have their eyes back. They’re hiding in the roof of the Wessex Arms, where no demons are going to carry them off, and none of the Cult of the Servant neither. I swear I’ll make sure their eyes are destroyed, then you can grow them back and start being a Messengers’ Guild again. Jess and Tommie were learning to read and do numbers before they were attacked, and George and Dan are in the Temple of Balance still with eyes. They’ll help put things back together.
I’ve been thinking about trying a new name for myself. It sounds silly, but I’m not really Dahlia, and I don’t feel like Val any more. Val wouldn’t be going off questing to slay a demon. That’s what heroes do, and I don’t know if there’s anyone who can swoon big enough to get us back from Sight Unseen.
Crafter guide you and keep you safe.
Valerian
Aww, this brought a tear to my eye. --Chevron
I HAVE SOMETHING IN MY EYES THEY ARE LEAKING --Salavant
Awwwww! --Locksmith