[A little letter, delivered to the Sisterhood]Dear Sisters,
I would like some word, when time permits, over a variety of matters.
In the meantime, I would request that you read this brief missive to Ishla. I was informed she was wounded, in the Quest. While I may no longer bear the colors, I still care for her... And hope that, in whatever depths she's laying in at present, my words may still reach her.
Yours,
Alejandro
[There is another brief letter, folded within the first]Hide
Ishla, I hear you're ill. I hear you were wounded in the Quest. I am sorry I was not there, by your side, to protect you. I trust you can and will recover. I want you to recover. I want to hear your song, softly, as you tend to the roses of the Krak.
I miss many things, but I miss you, too. Your words, Ishla, I bear upon my heart, engraved. Your words I often quote, Ishla, because they have been, and continue to be, a balm. "We are always growing", you said, "though not always straight". When I doubt of the path my heart leads me through, when I feel anxious over my choices, I think of you. I want you to know that.
Please, keep on growing.
Yours,
Alejandro