A Long Letter

13 Sep

Rose tossed another wadded up paper into the ogre stewpot below.  It bounced off and hit the ‘chef’ on the male creature’s jiggling chest.  She shifted back out of sight, then continued to try to write.

Dearest Malindrake,

It has been a long time.  I’ve been getting drunk in the Undercity, and may have gotten raped.

No good.  Another wad of paper shot into the stew pot.  The ogres would get lots of fiber today.

Dearest Malindrake,

It feels like more than a year since last we saw each other.  I hope this letter finds you well.  I just wanted to write and tell you that I’m over you.

Another crappy draft.  She was glad she had a pile larger than her nearby cat.  The obese little white furball rested, purring in the sunlight on the warm wood of the defensive walls.  It meowed at her and shifted its weight as it caught her gaze on it for a moment before the priestess returned to her attempted letter.

To my dear Malindrake,

It seems like far too long since last we spoke.  I hope this letter finds you well, and not cringing in terror, although I cannot blame you if you do have my sister read it for you.

After drinking near-constantly in the Undercity and waking up a few too many times in smelly alleys, I have come to the conclusion that I should rethink my life, and I have.

My conclusion took a lot of booze to drink down, but I believe it is true: all of my recent troubles in life are my own fault.  My own actions are what led you to hate me.  I am the reason my sister is afraid when I come near.  My behaviors have led the guild to avoid me, and have left me alone and drunk in a city that reeks of death.

Much closer, but it still didn’t quite seem right.  She drove a stick into it to keep it in sight and began to write again, this time more slowly, paying attention to her word choice.  Her eyes traveled the page, and red-painted lips mouthed each word, then spoke them aloud in a quiet voice that seemed almost to sob.

The young elf suddenly sat up and looked at the sky as she blinked.  Her eyes were misting with tears, and propriety told her that a tear-stained letter would only worry Mal, who so frequently tried to bolster her sister’s self-esteem.  To her, he always looked so kind.  His gaze when he looked at Vallivaleiri always broke Rose’s heart.

Rose closed her eyes and let her tears fall onto her shoulders before she wiped her eyes and returned to writing.

Dearest Malindrake,

I hope this letter finds you well. I am currently assisting the Forsaken at Galen’s Fall after spending far too long drowning my troubles in Sylvanas’s Undercity. The smell isn’t as bad as it was when I first arrived, but then again, I haven’t smelled clear air in a long while.

After waking a few too many times in a bad part of town after a night of drinking, I have taken some time to think, and realized that the majority of my troubles are my own fault. Your hatred of me is not unfounded. Vallivaleiri’s distrust is from experience, and hearing nothing from the other members of the guild is my own fault, as well.

So, I have come to the only conclusion that made sense.

I am deeply sorry for all I have put you and Valli through, and neither of you needs to fear that I will rear my wicked head near either of you. I will stay away, just as I expect you prefer.

Be well,

Good enough.  It was terrible, but it was good enough.  With special care, she rested another paper on top and pressed down to remove excess, then began to put her writing tools and her paper away into her pack.

A light nudge against her hand made her jump, and she looked down at her little cat. “Oh.  Yes, we’re ready to move on soon.” She scratched its cheek and marveled at how the cat’s white fur seemed to glow in the light from her eyes.  Her head rose to look up.  The sun was setting.  Ogres would sleep soon.

It would not be long before she went down into the camp and killed every ogre lord and every ogre shaman.  For the Horde.

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Posted by on September 13, 2013 in Semihistorical Fiction


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