[Untitled] Fourth Letter

Aí Vivaereth!

What worrisome news you bring before me!  I never did care for that straight-laced foal, Lumía, or his installation as council head, but to think!  He has banished you three in light of what's happening.  I feel I must apologize to you, for it was I who suggested you bring this matter before the council.  Why did I not foresee this?  One does not simply rouse sleeping children from their beds.  The children will toss and fight, grasping for more of their pleasant dreams.

It falls to those who have stayed awake in vigil to contend with the thief upon the house.  Though I fear that thief has already stolen his way inside.  I worry for the council members who remain.  Perhaps your banishment was in fact a stroke of good fortune.  We must be wary of our allies in the future.

This message comes to you via my faithful friend, Areil.  No doubt you did not hear her downy wings beat nor see her graceful white form until she was among you.  She is the finest of the creatures I've met in this mortal wood.  Treat her well; she will accompany you for now.

It disheartens me greatly to know that such disturbing events must occur in the harsh season of winter, even more that you must trek through a fresh blanket of snow to reach me.  I pray you safety and warmth.

My apprentice, Eolan, is much looking forward to your arrival.  He is anxious to meet "more of those like me."  Such a sweet young boy he is.  He has even offered to cook you a meal.

He is a delight to have around, but also headstrong and willing to assist me in my studies.  He often perches beside my writing desk and inquires about the strange runes which I employ in my letters.  I have begun to teach him a little of our people's tongue, but most of our work is done in the Mortal's language, in which he is literate.

I have briefly mentioned the nature of your visit.  Not in a thousand moon turns would I wish such a small mortal boy to accompany us on our dangerous journey.  But you see, I am his only provider.  Orphaned as a lamb, and left among the masses to be carried away, though it was I who chose to take him.

He and I will meet you five-hundred paces from our home, as is the custom among our people, yours and mine.  Then we may journey back and share a warm meal whilst trading information and planning our best course of action.

Avúlia, She who Worries