Letter to Mittens-Calla and Mittens
Jun 10, 2023 19:58:18 GMT
Ruthenia Truelove, Tom M, and 1 more like this
Post by Mittens Mckittens on Jun 10, 2023 19:58:18 GMT
Having returned from the Plane of Minerals and debriefed with Professor Quillis, Calla takes some much needed rest. Two days later she's back on the streets of Daring Heights- carrying two letters, both quite different in tone. The first, to Cechec, turns out to be nigh undeliverable. The dragonborn is hard enough to pin down to a particular address, or even neighbourhood, that Calla starts to wonder if he exists at all. Was he a stress induced dream, a vision that she needed at a point of extreme worry? No. What foolishness. Raine has seen him, surely others must have too.
The second, she knows all too well how to deliver. Winter would have knocked upon the unassuming door. Spring would have prevaricated. But Summer is here now. She slips the note under the door quietly, returns to the Dragon, readies her pack, and leaves Daring for New Hillborrow.
She does not look back.
"Dear Mittens,
Now that we’re in the first days of Summer there are some things I want to tell you. You will not want to hear them. Which is why I’m writing you this letter.
First- Over the last few weeks i’ve been increasingly proud of your progress, and I’m going to have to trust that it will continue. I’m going to ask if my mentor has time or space to teach you while Kennari is away. She’s a good teacher, and heavily connected to the court of Sorcery. Despite my best wishes you’ll learn more from her than you would from me. It’s as safe and predictable an exposure to the Feywild as I can provide. When you run out of Kennari’s books, go to the Academy and ask for Professor Rhea Quillis.
Second - I know you don’t believe me, and I know that saying this will not help at all, but I need to have told you plainly. The Courts are dangerous. Nearly every single member of them will outlive you ten times over. They do not understand that a minor inconvenience for them could kill you. They do not understand that a brief period of difficulty for them, is a decade or more of misery for you. And worse, when they do, they often do not care. What does the forest fire care for the flickering of a candle? Even Quillis, who I trust to be my teacher, sent me to deal with unknown extraplanar creatures for my entrance exam. I have no doubt you’d find that thrilling, but the only reason it was okay for me and I worry about you is that I knew not to treat it recklessly. Thankfully, that caution is something I see in you more and more - I desperately hope that it grows faster than your increasing ability to get into danger.
Lastly, but my reason for this letter- I’m moving to Port Ffirst for the season. If at any point you do want my help, with anything at all, you can leave a message for me at the Runaway Library, or Truestrike Forge.
Over the last several months I have felt a deep duty of care for you. A duty, it has become clear, that you seem burdened by. If you are hiding things from me, things I suspect you know I would find dangerous, I cannot help you with them.
Despite my actions through Spring, I’m not going to push you on that. The last time we travelled together, I tried to teach you something about consequence, and responsibility. And how reckless behaviour can endanger those around us. I feel that my behaviour has itself started to endanger you, by making you feel that you can’t talk to others about your needs, or worries.
None of us are safe alone, and if you’ve turned inward, or worse, to something perilous, my greatest responsibility is to let you know that your friends are there for you when you want them, and not people you need to evade.
Make no mistake, you can call for me at any time and I’ll come to your aid. Especially if it’s to do with your family, or Kennari.
Whenever you’re ready to ask for my help, it will be there.
Until then, you’re free of it.
Your friend, Calla Prim".
Now that we’re in the first days of Summer there are some things I want to tell you. You will not want to hear them. Which is why I’m writing you this letter.
First- Over the last few weeks i’ve been increasingly proud of your progress, and I’m going to have to trust that it will continue. I’m going to ask if my mentor has time or space to teach you while Kennari is away. She’s a good teacher, and heavily connected to the court of Sorcery. Despite my best wishes you’ll learn more from her than you would from me. It’s as safe and predictable an exposure to the Feywild as I can provide. When you run out of Kennari’s books, go to the Academy and ask for Professor Rhea Quillis.
Second - I know you don’t believe me, and I know that saying this will not help at all, but I need to have told you plainly. The Courts are dangerous. Nearly every single member of them will outlive you ten times over. They do not understand that a minor inconvenience for them could kill you. They do not understand that a brief period of difficulty for them, is a decade or more of misery for you. And worse, when they do, they often do not care. What does the forest fire care for the flickering of a candle? Even Quillis, who I trust to be my teacher, sent me to deal with unknown extraplanar creatures for my entrance exam. I have no doubt you’d find that thrilling, but the only reason it was okay for me and I worry about you is that I knew not to treat it recklessly. Thankfully, that caution is something I see in you more and more - I desperately hope that it grows faster than your increasing ability to get into danger.
Lastly, but my reason for this letter- I’m moving to Port Ffirst for the season. If at any point you do want my help, with anything at all, you can leave a message for me at the Runaway Library, or Truestrike Forge.
Over the last several months I have felt a deep duty of care for you. A duty, it has become clear, that you seem burdened by. If you are hiding things from me, things I suspect you know I would find dangerous, I cannot help you with them.
Despite my actions through Spring, I’m not going to push you on that. The last time we travelled together, I tried to teach you something about consequence, and responsibility. And how reckless behaviour can endanger those around us. I feel that my behaviour has itself started to endanger you, by making you feel that you can’t talk to others about your needs, or worries.
None of us are safe alone, and if you’ve turned inward, or worse, to something perilous, my greatest responsibility is to let you know that your friends are there for you when you want them, and not people you need to evade.
Make no mistake, you can call for me at any time and I’ll come to your aid. Especially if it’s to do with your family, or Kennari.
Whenever you’re ready to ask for my help, it will be there.
Until then, you’re free of it.
Your friend, Calla Prim".
“Well it was a lot tougher to find out about this rock than I’d thought.” Mittens mutters under his as he pads his way up the stairs to ‘his’ apartment.
“Not that lot in there help’d much.” He says with a jerk of head to the bee that is softly dozing on his shoulder from hours spent in the warm Academy library. “You think I’d just rolled in some fresh pig muck the way some of those hoity-toity scholars turned their noses up at me”, Mittens scoffs as he digs into pocket for his key as they reach the door. “Least dat Malcolm’ helped, despite charging me up front for his ‘services’. Think I got right proper ripped off to be honest.
‘Heradju. Bastet… The Children of Bast or The Children of Sharess…’ Trust him to know how to say it what’s on the rock, but not actually know anything about it!” He puts the key into the lock and turns as continue.” “Tis like saying ya know how to milk a cow and then not knowing der udder from der’other-which you do not wanna get confused about Lib!..Hm? What’s this?” Mittens says as he lifts foot off the envelope on the floor a dusty paw print now stamped below his name written in a fine neat handwriting.
Mittens tears the envelope open with a claw instinctively, before pulling out the piece of parchment and begins to read. The further down he gets, the more his ears droop, his tail so recently filled with flicks of aggravated energy now falling limp behind his legs barely sweeping the wood panel boards.
Libby awakes with a yawn and looks towards Mittens from his shoulder now, her peaceful doze under the steady hum of his words now suddenly abated.
Mittens finishes the note and lets his arm holding the note fall limp to his side. “Well..Guess that’s that then Lib”. He murmurs quietly, talking to but not looking at her. “It’s just you, me and..” He gives a glance over to the two comfy armchairs lit in the light of the late afternoon sun. The left one that had been absent for so long, now adjusted to the preference of its ‘new owner’, the plump cushion still marked by a deep imprint. “…Levkoy now I guess.”
He stands still for a few moments, before suddenly crumpling the letter, throwing it across the room where it bounces off a wall and across the room and hits the floor before rolls under one of the armchairs.
“Bah who needs her away!” He announces, making his way to the cool cupboard with a mind to pull out some milk. “Always sticking her nose in, trying to act like she’s me big sister or something! It’ll make things much easier now without worrying’bout her blabbing to Council about me being here alone or finding out about what we’re doing-telling me 'its dangerous' eh? She claims to know all about the Fey, ‘how dangerous’ they all are, but what help was she last time with all them little fellas huh?” He takes a big swig of milk from the bottle.
“You know, I’m glad she’s gone!”And as for her fancy Academy teacher!” He gives a ‘Pfft!’ of a hiss, sending little droplets of milk from his freshly acquired moustache to the floor, before he sits down at the table, banging the bottle as he does so. “They can stuff it! I’ve learnt more on me’own and from Kennari then I ever will from any of those big’headed bookworms! They wouldn’t know an adventure if it hit’em in the face!”
Libby flutters closer to Mittens' neck and rubs her head comfortingly against it, as a couple tears drip down onto the wooden tabletop. The scene blurs with a soft sniff and hiccup from Mittens, as we see the crumpled note from Calla unfurl slightly from its resting place under the armchair, the words, 'Your friend, Calla Prim' being revealed once more as the final shaft of sunlight slips away.
