The letter is rumpled, as though it has made a long trip at the bottom of someone’s bag, but the paper is fine and high quality. The ink is a dark black, and for the most part, crisp and neatly written in an elegant hand, if very tiny and almost cramped to save space. Some of the lines are smudged, as though the ink got wet before it had fully dried and at the bottom there is an unfamiliar impression in ink of a Knight’s ring beside the neatly written name of Dionysia. The star symbol proclaimed them one of the many traveling knights of Cosmos, but they were not the author of the letter itself.
Quote:
To my beloved Papa ~
Its been weeks since I left Dionysia and I feel every day of it keenly. I hope this letter finds you and the rest of the island well. I hope this letter finds you at all. There are no knights here with their magic rings to wisk it into your hands, so I’ll have to send it with the next personage I can find passing through. Probably a trader, what few of them they get here. No one ever comes to Eros and no one ever leaves, it feels like.
The only people who seem to find this planet hospitable are it’s residents, and even they seem to spend most of their time with their eyes cast heavenward, either wistfully or in fear. It rains often, but Erosian rain is not like any of the rains we ever saw from the shores of Dionysia. You’ve seen it before, I believe. Its poison that falls from the sky and it destroys everything it touches. It makes it hard here for the people. They struggle a lot to eck out a living, using the crumbling ceilings of the ancient city to shelter them from what their ancestors did to their planet. Food is the hardest part for them, but don’t worry about me. Its not the lavish feasts we’re used to, but they make sure that I’ve had my fill before they share the rest. Between you and me, I try to eat a little less now than I’m used to. It doesn’t hurt me, but its more to go around that way. Another mouth gets filled.
Its not just the food that’s poor either. They live on the cast off scraps of the old world here. Very little of what they have is new, most of it is scavenged from protected store rooms and shared out among them. Or at least, it is now. It was one of my first acts, to put a stop to the hoarding and hiding. One of the few positive changes I’ve been able to enact here.
I suppose I should really mention that its not all bad here, even if my account seems it. To be fair, every morning and evening treats us to the most spectacular rising and setting of the sun that you have ever seen. The umber clouds might block a lot of the sun from reaching the crumbling walls, but they also light up like fire. I’ve never seen such colors in all of our travels. They’re so bright, so vibrant, I can feel them seep in through my eyes and wrap around my heart. I have seen so many beautiful things, but looking at an Erosian sunset and its hard to think of one that can compare.
The colors and the light seem to affect the people too. They take that beauty with them and they splash it with wild abandon across the walls inside the old buildings. I’ve found good use for that set of mule-hair brushes I brought with me. I’ve been working on a mural for the wall of the room I optimistically call my home. I’m painting Dionysia, floating in the heavens surrounded by the stars it travels between. I don’t ever want to forget its graceful slopes, but sometimes its hard to draw the picture in my mind. I’m hoping the painting will help me not to forget.
Its strange, being responsible for all of these people. Almost from the moment my foot touched the soil, they’re been looking to me with such hope in their faces, its heart breaking. They’ve been without a senshi for over two decades of their time and now suddenly I’m here and its like I’ve brought salvation with me in my travel bags. I don’t know what to do, truthfully. I never expected any of this to happen and its overwhelming. As a young child, I thought I would travel the stars by your side forever, seeing everything this big universe of ours has to offer. When I was older, I even dreamed maybe someday I might be worthy to take up your mantle and you would be able to retire to finally be able to do all of the things you’ve always said you wanted to do in care and comfort, assured the Island was in good hands. They truly are nothing but dreams now.
I’m sorry, Papa. I was going to try to write this with a happy tone, so you wouldn’t worry about me. I wanted you to think I was happy and content with the lot destiny has cast me, but I’m not.
I’m sad. I’m lonely. And I’m scared.
I don’t know how to be a senshi. I don’t know how to be a leader or a protector, or whatever it is these people think I’m supposed to be. I feel like a butterfly pinned to a board here. Nothing ever changes. Its either days of rain or days of gloom and no one comes and no one leaves. Its always the same faces, the same walls, the same vista every day. I feel like I’m suffocating in it. The only things that grow here without protection are the twisted, ugly things that can bear the acid rain and all the people do is scratch around in the dirt and sing their songs and paint their walls. I miss Dionysia, I miss my bed, I miss seeing the wonders of the universe, and most of all, I miss you. I miss seeing your face and hearing your voice and I miss sitting at your feet while you read, playing my lyre for you.
I don’t know these people, they aren’t MY people. I don’t think I can be the person they need me to be and all I want, day in and day out, is just to go home. I want to see the stars again. So few things grow here, I’m scared there will never be another harvest to draw Dionysia. I’m terrified I’ll never see you again.
I’m sorry, again, for the smudged ink and the rumpled paper and that this wasn’t the happy letter you deserve to get from me. I’m trying my best, Papa, but its so hard sometimes.
I will send more letters when I can. Hopefully I will have better things to write you about next time. Paper is scarce here and I only brought so much with me. Finding someone to send them to you is also hard. I’m going to attempt to send this with the next outbound ship and beg them to give it to the first knight they find. Hopefully they won’t just toss it over the side as soon as I’m out of sight.
Please write me back as soon as you can. Tell me about Dionysia and the places you’ve been since I’ve left. Your letters will always find me and I crave that bit of sunshine on my wilted petals.
I love you, always and forever, and I am sending all of my hugs and kisses with this letter.
Your darling,
Ianthe
