encased in a linen envelope, the sheaf of parchment has been spelled to appear as an ordinary missive to any but the intended recipient. in the place of the high lord’s seal is the sigil of the healer to whom he has written : twin swallows, inked in black, the larger of which holds an olive leaf in its beak. beneath, the initials c. p.
miss pennyroyal,
it is my earnest hope that you have managed to find solace in the days after what i must now ( and grievously ) call the trappings of another blight upon prythian. it seems just yesterday that we were poised to salve the lesions of war and to birth ourselves anew like the earth after a deadening winter ; prone as i was to bid my court to combat the first time, i confess that i would have liked, if even for a spell, to watch her recuperate.
what a rare thing it was ( and no small miracle ) that i made your acquaintance those centuries ago, when we were but adolescents and war was a ghastly thought to be entertained privately and never uttered. my libraries are ever at your fingertips, should you require their amenities at any time for study.
here, i turn to more pressing affairs. i know you would balk at the notion of me keeping tally, but as it stands, i am beholden to you. if not for your skill and swift attendance to the yet-nebulous effects of faebane, i fear what might have become of azrael. if i should feel sound in entrusting his health to anyone, it is you.
i have grieved sufficiently for the tremendous weight we must now carry, and what must be brought to bear. were our situation less perilous, i would not have to seek your support again and so soon. yet, the foreign body of pain must be culled before it can dissolve fully in our blood.
please advise me on a date at which you may be disposed to pay a call on peritia —— you will have all that you need here.
keep well, tyrian aurelius
for @wnterstcrms. clove pennyroyal.