A letter to Acherus

[Drawings: An assortment of guardsmen in pencil. Each is in profile and then standing like he or she would have been as on duty. They are all guards young Chryseth would have seen in his childhood neighborhood. On another sheet of paper, Haken -- watching the birds, face somewhere between relaxed and intent; underneath, the artist has scribbled "I would be his friend forevermore as well."]

Dearest Jiel:

I don't know if I have ever told you this. My memory is a little   shot right now, at least for me. But I do not understand why the living treat the Forsaken and Ebon Blade a bit like they wish they were dead and gone and buried and left.

The other day, I saw something that was just as painful and bewildering and it was from the other side. Now I do not understand any better than I did before, but I think I can

I can see it.

Some people like to close their eyes to the present and cling to a past that can never return. They blind themselves to the terribleness and strange beauty and yes it is mixed with horror of the present. They pretend that what was is more real than what is because of their fear and pain and I don't know what else.

Some people like to close their eyes to the past and pretend that what they think they see now is all that ever was, or ever could be. And this too is out of pain and fear and all of those other things.

I am not perfect. I will never pretend to that.

But I

I do not know because we never had the chance, so perhaps I am as blind as anyone, pretending, clinging in my own small way to WHAT MIGHT HAVE BEEN

But I think we would have been friends then.

I know we are friends now.

I hope to be your friend forevermore, come what may, whatever we may become. And I say that looking at my own horrible self, hoping that you can still love me even if

I will always love you, Jiel.

yours,
Chry