The last two weeks had been an absolute whirlwind. Aezabal’s soul casket had been destroyed on Argus, rendering the Shivan soul-dealer permanently killable, but at great cost. Both of her hired guides had been killed when the fel crystal ruptured, one of her healers in Dalaran said Alliance forces had found her at the bottom of a small cliff. The force of the crystal’s rupture likely the cause, her back having been to the edge of the precipice when it was damaged.
The sleeping potions the hospital sent her away with had been put to excess use; As a result she’d been out on her back and healing through the peak of the holiday, practically dead to the world.
Her mail had piled up in the meanwhile. Borginault and Birchleaf, her employers, had sent a nice basket of wine and cheese. A notification letter for the shipment of a flat of cut Elwynn Teakwood logs stated they were inbound. The inkwell and oils from Dori made her smile.
She had a seat at her secretaire, ignoring the aches in her mending bones to pen what few thank you letters she needed to.
Dori,
The inkwell and oils were unexpected, but no less adored. While the inkwell itself was intended for my desk at work, I think I will keep it at home to keep it safe; Besides, there is a kind of magic in the small rituals we use our things for, and I would rather like to imbue it with my more personal writings.
Thank you kindly for thinking of me this Winter’s Veil. It means more to me than I think I would adequately be able to express outside of penning that statement -- being alone through the holidays has become second nature as a result of my situation.
Regretfully, my travels have left me unable to do any gifting myself; I hope a belated gift will not put you off too much.
All my best, Fio
( @arandori )
