XXV. To a Brother, From a Sovereign
To my brother, Leona Kingscholar,
It is the twenty-seventh day in the Month of Ruby. I recall you mentioning more than once how you viewed the concept of birthdays as useless occasions, especially for our kind. I think otherwise. We may be destined to live out thousands of years, but each year is special. Despite our differences and our quarrels, I still remember yours. It’s 6998 AS, meaning you would be four-thousand-eighteen years old, I believe. Some may call you ancient, as not many entities make it to this age, but you’re still young in my eyes. Happy birthday, brother.
Where have you gone? This marks the eighth birthday letter I’ve sent since you’ve disappeared from our lives. I send these to the Temple of the Wise, as that’s where I assume you appear every now and then. I know you enjoy napping in the shade by the temple’s pool, where you can hear the prayers of your Fisarun as you doze off. At least, that’s what I remember, but I do not know if you have received any of my letters or if you deliberately ignore me like you so often do when cross.
I will continue to send these, keep updating you on the comings and goings of life, even if you are cross! Just this past month, your nephew Cheka turned eight years old. That’s mere infancy to our kind, but I suppose with how he observes the people of Pridehaven, he’s attempting to emulate the beastfolk children. So he picks up on things much quicker than I ever did. He matches you in that regard, a quick learner.
Cheka has recently picked up reading and is absolutely captivated by the stories the mortals write of our adventures and battles from the distant past. This year, he asked for a peculiar birthday gift that even I couldn’t grant. Cheka wants to meet you. You wouldn’t be so cruel as to deny meeting your own nephew, would you?
In all seriousness, I understand why you would be hesitant to meet him given how you may still believe he was the cause of his mother’s passing. But I assure you, she wanted him to live more than anything, even at the cost of her own life. If you need the space, then alright, but if you mourn and suffer alone, I am here. I understand more than anyone the pain of her passing, how it has inflicted suffering on everyone, on me, on you. Even if you pretend to not care, I know you care more than most. I know you.
I know you disappeared because you didn’t want me to see you like that. I know the pain you felt worsened, to lose your friend the Goddess of Laughter and a few short years later we lose our beloved Goddess of Justice. Perhaps part of you blames me, and for that I am sorry, brother. I am sorry for all the times I have wronged you. Just come home.
I will continue badgering you with these letters until you do. We were doing so well for a short time, and now again we’re separated. Do you know what your continued silence reminds me of? It reminds me of when we were still in Ahadi’s Maws. When I came to life, it was dark, cold, but I wasn’t alone. I knew you were there, somewhere within the stone just like I had been, so I waited. You were silent, but I waited. I waited, and waited, and waited for over a century until you came to life. The batch of ore you came from was tiny and dark, it had less magestones than the lighter bunch I came from, which is probably why you were smaller. That didn’t matter to me at that moment. Seeing you in that instance had made me so unbelievably happy, because I wasn’t alone and it was no longer silent.
When we clawed our way out of the chasm, all that greeted us was death and destruction. There was no one there to welcome us, any mortals and immortals had long since fled the local area. However, that didn’t stop you. You quickly figured out how to make a proper form from the remains of the dead and the geo we could manipulate. That always amazed me. So I followed your lead, and made a similar form. We made matching marks on our arms too, one you’ve never erased with sand and one I still wear to this day.
As I attempted to befriend the wild animals, you were focused on the relics and objects left behind by people. When I called you over to show you how to make friends with the animals, you pulled me along to teach me the words you learned. Once we had the basics down, we came up with names for each other. Do you remember that?
You called me Falena, and I called you Leona because you were as proud as the lions I adored. You had insisted that King be our last name because those were the titles held by great people. I wanted Scholar instead because it seemed like a word that fit you. So we compromised on Kingscholar.
I remember. I remember the last question you asked me before you up and vanished. Do you really think so little of me? You left before I could answer. My answer is no, brother. I thought the world of you. Had you asked me what I would have expected of the future when we were just a few centuries old, I would have answered that I believed we would fight side by side forever.
Things may not be as simple as they used to be, but I am still here, Leona. You can come home whenever you wish, and I will be waiting even if it takes another century for you to break your silence.
From your brother, Falena Kingscholar.
