Dear Zoe

[Hierophant]

Dear Zoe,

Your words and the words of the Sibylline have rang hollow. The Banda Rossa vote for whom lines their pocket, the Sibylline vote for which candidate they think they can best influence and the Balladeers vote as the Sibylline do, with spies in every league claiming to follow their tenets.

I was suspicious from the beginning, and if not for your gentle nature, I would never have let that red wine touch my lips. I lost all sense of care, candor and tenor to my beliefs, but it has been a few days now and I realize something. I told you I was drinking myself half to death, and when I am delighted to say I am sober, you push upon me another Drink?

Words cannot describe how wroth I am with you most of all, Zoe. You have promised not to lose yourself, but you are already lost. The words that ruminated in my mind when Stern warned me are the very same here; 'It is true that Zoe Tzimiska is of my blood, but she has not been my sister in eleven long years. She was never mine to begin with, and so I have not lost her, only lost the hope that she would be again.'

Those soothing whispers, those dreams of nothing, those twisted caricatures of what I really believe in. You are all very skilled in it, I confess. But I will make a note of avoiding you and that Krak again. They all stood by and barely blinked an eye when I told them of Gunmper's declaration. The very notion of it so undemocratic I could weep, if I was so invested in their White Lie.

But I am not, and it was only a trial. Now I know who are the snakes, and who are my friends. Who truly support me. I've run into that Margarethe of yours and she barely knew who I was. All those 'whispers' about me, wishing me to lead the League of White to victory were blatant lies. If they were not, then they were based upon wishing a scapegoat to take face so they could continue to seep poison into this city, as they did through Guivarch's entire tenure.

Make no mistake, Zoe. The Sibylline Sisterhood is a cult and those smiles are like daggers more terrible than any Djinn. But my work has already begun, and it cannot be cowed now. I will continue it in the League of Gold and bide my time. So many are concerned with immediate success, and the be all, by all of a Legate's seat; so little are concerned with the ideas that will truly shape this city into the Republic it must be, and can be. Such things are not built in a day, let alone a month- and I would rather not be broken by three months of a Legate's seat, demand after demand from the Accord. No, what I mean to build will not be so fragile a victory. That so many think it is an accomplishment worthy of praise is a curious joke.

Do not call for me again. Enjoy your new family.

Regards,
Leo

[IKeepForgettingMyUserName]

Dear Leo,

I have read your letter over and over and I am lost. What has changed so much that you write to me so suddenly with such cruel venom? How have I wronged you? Despite everything I have only done my best to help and now you have the audacity to act the aggrieved? You, who have lived above in selfish excess. It leaves me sickened.

Do you forget so easily? You left me with only Loukas and the rats. While you poisoned yourself and tried to forget living, I was down there putting together pieces that would no longer fit no matter how much I tried. And I tried. Over and over I tried. And each night I saw their reflections in dream turn until eventually they were monsters. Noble men would claw out their wives' eyes in maddened grief. Mothers would eat their young. I cannot close my eyes without feeling their ruination and there is only so much I can do to escape what was without breaking more.

Before we finally met, I thought I would lay it all before you. That I would speak to you of all that I was made to witness. Of all the horrors below that gnaw ravenously away at the edge of sight. But I forgave you then and there as my 'cult' teaches (Or at least I thought I had done so). I wanted to support you, see you rise to the lofty heights of old with your rekindled spirit lighting the way. I wanted our legacy to no longer be sullied with the likes of Constantine's twisted vengeance.

I wanted to help you so much that I urged for you to take our most sacred rite. Unlike what was consuming you and bringing you to the depths, the Drink only brings you closer to who you would be were the world not so fallen. It uplifts and makes whole broken people. It could heal you. It could heal me. And it will one day remake our broken world.

As for the Whites, I can speak to the course and the heading, but I cannot navigate the depths for you. That was for you to do. All was set until you spoke aloud of blockading Baz'eel.

Blame me if you must. I will try to use all this as a lesson. I will forgive you all.

Only not right now.

Shame on you.

Zoe