• Protected: Mail to Ari

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    June 24, 2012 /  Letters

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  • Protected: Letter to Jei

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    June 22, 2012 /  Letters

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  • Letter to Ari

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    June 22, 2012 /  Letters

    Dear Ari,

    I wasn’t going to tell you. But I should of realised that word would of gotten to you, even in whatever backwards goat-riding town you’re in now. Would you believe me if I told you it was just a scratch? Probably not. I have stitches, everywhere and I’m not allowed to leave the hospital. They have guards posted. I think I can slip by them though. Maybe not now but tomorrow.

    Demon… in the city. And the Earl Marshall demanded I not attack it, and yet lost sight of it several times as it wandered about the city. I think I’m in trouble. I disobeyed a direct order. And even as Baroness I think she outranks me. But it was stupid. Not attacking just waiting and following. For what? In the hopes that it would lead us to what? At the risk of what lives? I think they were being cowards. They were scared to attack. They jumped in quick enough once I did. I miss you. I can’t move my left arm. Not sure about this doctor he strapped me down. Don’t like needles. Don’t like hospitals.

    Still alive, just.

    Love, Lieny

    PS. I’ve eloped with Edvard and pretty sure I’m pregnant with triplets.

  • Protected: Letters to Ari

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    June 21, 2012 /  Letters

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  • My Father

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    June 20, 2012 /  Background

    “I think I have exactly what you need for tonight’s little party, Lien,” my father told me as he led me upstairs and into his room. The term little was a bit of an understatement, it was to be our sixteenth birthday and well, I swear half of Strongjaw and the Ducal Seat had been invited to this ‘little’ soiree. It was a matter of pride you see. We were Noble once more and of course, we had to make sure we out did the pomp and ceremony put on for sixteenth party of the Sinijara boy last year.

    Upon entering he rummaged through a few drawers until he found what he was looking for. It was a white satin case and when he opened it there were two beautiful Tubori pearl earrings lying on a piece of black satin.

    I remember smiling as I took the case and my father laughed. “I gave these to your mother on our first date. She was so much like you, stubborn, lively and troublesome. It took a lot of wooing and courting and my part to convince her to marry me. But in the end, it was, of course, worthwhile.”

    My eyes rolled but I still took the earrings from the box and carefully put them on, admiring the stark contrast between my dusky locks and the exquisite pearls on my ears. “They’re beautiful Papa.” I drew up to tip-toes and kissed the side of his cheek. “Thank you.”

    “Anything for my little raven.”

    It was my pet name, like how some girls are called ‘princess’ or ‘sweet-heart’. My Papa, family and friends called me ‘raven’. Partially for my hair but also because when I was little I was always running around everywhere, flapping my arms and trying to fly. Jumping off of progressively higher things much to the displeasure of my parents. These little exploits soon became a safety hazard for myself and anyone within a five foot radius of me. At first I was just called ‘little bird’, but after a while a was dubbed Raven.

    I kind of miss being called that. Not since I left Tubor. Not since I last saw my father.  And now he’s gone and I’ll never hear him call me that again. No, we were not close… but there were moments, like those.

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