#Archmage's mailbox

[archmage--khadgar]

So your legs don’t work but does your arcane meat

"I have studied ancient works both in Karazhan and Dalaran, and traveled to other worlds and timelines. All this priceless knowledge, and yet I am unable to figure out how to explain that arcane isn't meat! And what do you mean my legs don't work!? My legs work just fine!?"

[letters-from-dekarios]

{ After he was met with his affliction, Gale withdrew himself into his tower for a year. With only Tara for company, and bless her - she tried her best, the wizard drowned in guilt and shame. After the first few weeks, the incessant sending spells died down, after some months, colleagues stopped coming by, safe for only a few friends and his mother. Around that time he stopped checking for mail too. It didn't matter anymore.

Safe to say, Gale was unprepared when the sky suddenly darkened and before he could react, he was plucked right from the ground and taken by the nautilod. But his unexpected adventure served to be quite enlightening and he returned to Waterdeep as a happier and healthier man. He comes back to his home to find his mailbox absolutely flooded. He's got some mucking out to do.

Beneath all the letters of concerned, confused and even some angered colleagues and acquaintances, as well as archmage business, he finds a rather surprising set of letters penned by an old friend from his time at the Blackstaff Academy : Theofiel Rivershade.

A timid but sociable half-elf. The two of them lived parallel to each other in the first few years there, same friends and mentors but somehow never crossing paths. Until they began nursing a quiant friendship after Gale needed help in hunting down a set of very rare and old books by an author that was as sound of mind as he was known : barely.

But after a while of idle comradery, Theofiel, who was quite studious and hardworking, a trait Gale admired as he was more of the sleep-in-class-but-ace-the-test kind of guy, became.. unmotivated and sluggish. And as he attended the Academy less and less until completely dropping out, Gale never truly knew what had become of his formerly bright and curious friend apart from rumors that he had fallen on quite hard times with his health.

And now, four letters lay before the wizard on the coffee table. He brewed himself some tea in the meantime as he opens the first letter. The date was about five months after he'd secluded himself from the world. The second letter was sent eight months in. The thrid was nine months and the last just recently, about a few weeks ago when he was still in the midst of his quest to safe Faerun.}

⚝─⭒⭑⭒─⚝

1st letter : Warm greetings, Gale Dekarios

Or Gale of Waterdeep, if you prefer it. It's a quite imposing and deserved title, after all.

I know you haven't heard of me in a long time, and I hope you'll forgive me for it. But I have heard of you in the meantime. And while what I usually hear fills me with a content warmth in my chest, it has recently begun to feel colder and tense.

I do wish you well with what has been ailing you. You should know that I'll always be an open ear, like in good old times.

~ Best of wishes, Theofiel Rivershade

2nd letter : Greetings Gale Dekarios,

I know my concern might be of little comfort or significance to you, I admit it's been a while and in our brief friendship I don't think we ever talked about the plights that weighed on our souls. I know I never did. Perhaps I should have, and then we could have ended up more closely acquainted and I would have come to visit instead of sending letters.

But alas, I can't help being concerned, I always am. And if I learned one thing back then, it's that it's always worth trying. So I hope you're taking care of yourself, Gale. I hope you have someone with you.

~ Be well, Theofiel Rivershade

3rd letter : judging by the slightly skewed writing and the spelling mistakes, it must've been written either in the late hours of the night, while drunk, or both.

Greatings Gale Dekraiu

Theres an very uneasy feeling that has been playging me for a while now because the longer yur silence stretchs, the harder it bites down in me somewere. Like a fly trap but more big. I don't know what is hapening to you but I keep thinking about how similar it is to when I dropped out of the Acadeny. They say it's like you steppd into the shadows, or you are just drowning yourselv in research. But I have a bad feeling, I don't know. When I shut away it was because I was tired. Everyting was exsohsting. I felt a fire in me dying out. I felt like I was rotting slowly away and something eating me from inside. So I hid away to rot in peace. I was ashamed. But you were never exhasting to me, you know? It was easy with yu. But learning wasn't. I'm sorry. I'm not asking you to reply, it's still not my plase to do so. This is my last letter, I don't want to bofher you anymore. I hope you are okey.

At the bottom of the page was a sentence scribbled out, but he could still make out the words : "You've always been someone special to me, even after all these years."

~ Theo

4th letter : Warm greetings, Gale Dekarios

You've always been a common topic in my circles but now you're a topic everywhere it seems. I can't express to you how relieved I was when I heard you reappeared, be it quite far from here, and that you were with company. Fighting for the greater good.

I assume you are doing better. I hope so.

I apologize for my previous letters. There's nothing I can really say for myself except that I have a bad case of 'being a worrywart'. You may discard them if you so please. I think that's for the best.

I'm wishing you lots of luck for your quest and with yourself. All of Waterdeep has faith in you. Me as well. Keep your new friends close, they'll be good for you.

All I want is for you to be okay, happy if I dare say so. This letter is actually my last, I promise.

~ Sincerely, Theo Rivershade

⚝─⭒⭑⭒─⚝

( I'm so glad this blog exists. I've been very nervous about writing here but finally got over myself xD

I imagine the relationship between Gale and Theofiel never got explicitly romantic, but they did have moments that sometimes felt like it would become more, but neither of them acted on it. They got along, but never deeply knew each other but it still felt weird to go from a pleasant friendship to complete silence from Theo's side. But it happens.

I hope this wasn't too long though, I'm sorry °~°)

Dearest Theo,

I apologize for not writing you sooner. Time has gotten the best of my mind, even now but more upon the initial sending of your letters. As I sort through the piles of untouched words from friends much like you, it is only then I see how much I truly missed out on. As you may have deduced, I spent little time outside my tower for some time. I will admit to my isolation, but there is far more to it than that simple word.

Regardless, I’d like to address everything in each letter you sent me. As busy as my mind is, I cannot shake the feeling of losing out on something by not taking it all in. You must know how I recognize every letter you planted into these pages, or I fear my mind may give out.

It’s common knowledge that yes, again, I had isolated myself for a while. A year, to be exact. Given your standing as a friend, I’ll be honest in also admitting that I was not doing well. I’m not quite sure how far the grapevine went, but I was shunned by Mystra for… well, I’m not sure where I stand with her now despite it all, but it was a while. A long while. I was selfish and stupid, qualities I am not proud of holstering at that time. But, alas, young minds and a desire for greatness are not always the best combination. Thankfully, though I was not taking the greatest care of myself, I had my Tressym, Tara. You may remember her, do you? I’m sure if I mentioned your name she would have plenty to say.

Worry naught! After a year of sulking and withering away, Tara found the solution to my needs. And, now, those needs are gone. Replaced with ones that are much more fulfilling to the soul, I can happily say I am an entirely new man! As you also may have heard, being infected with tadpoles and nearly transforming into a Mindflayer does change a person.

Theo, dear Theo… I’m not sure where to begin with your third letter. Your drunken worry brings a feeling to the heart I cannot begin to name. While I try to keep this letter more lighthearted, I cannot help but feel akin to what you described. Just the same, I locked myself away with the intent to… pass away, silently. I’m not sure why. I had everything, yet nothing at all- isn’t that odd? I often reminisced on my relationships with people of my past, you included. I knew that if I just asked, you’d extend your hand to help. Shit, you wrote to me all that time. I feel a fool for not replying sooner- for not easing your concern sooner. Now I ramble here, hoping for an answer to the questions I had back then. I don’t wish to put this on you, as aforementioned I’d like to keep it light.

But, Theo, you were special to me, too. I believe you still are.

I can reassure you now, though. I am doing significantly better than I had been. Please, do not apologize for your former concern. You had every right. It is I who should be apologizing for leaving you to worry in silence. I promise to do as you ask, it’s certainly part of my plan for the future.

I’m not sure where you consider me, after all this time of silence, but I hope I can still be considered a friend. I still think of you as one, truly.

Perhaps we can meet sometime to reminisce over the past and catch up on what we’ve each missed. I’d enjoy that. Though, the trip to Waterdeep is a long one. Perhaps our correspondence can make up that time for now.

Tell me, Theo, how are you? Are you taking care of yourself? I hope you are. How are your studies nowadays? I never had the heart to ask how you were after you left, for fear of rubbing my success in your face. I hope you don’t hate me for that.

I’d hate to kill the pigeon who carries this letter from the weight of my words, so I shall end it here.

Thank you, for all of it. It calms my mind to know that I am surrounded by those who care. I used to believe I didn’t have anyone, but that just isn’t true.

Your friend,

𝑮𝒂𝒍𝒆 𝑫𝒆𝒌𝒂𝒓𝒊𝒐𝒔

text reads: gale dekarios

oh my god I absolutely loved this!!! I literally squealed reading this for the first time. This is so so cute! never ever apologize for writing long, this makes me so happy. I’m still kicking my feet as I write my little a.n cause this is just so [ chefs kiss ] ~ kore

[whimzeee]

Rolan,

I love the wand. I love even more to hear from you. As much as I appreciate the gift, I hope you don't feel obligated to give me such valuable things. I'm only a blacksmith. I'm afraid I can't reciprocate equally. Besides, your attention more than counts.

I don't have your way with words, so I can't tell you exactly how it makes me feel to find a letter from you waiting for me in the mailbox. For the rest of the day I'm distracted. I've never been able to think of anything but work; it's all I've ever been driven toward. A one-track mind for my craft is my biggest problem, according to many. You seem to have solved it. I'm not sure how you do this to me. Please continue. It's nice to think of something other than steel and fire and impatient customers. Nicer still when the subject is you.

Don't worry, though, I haven't forgotten about your commission. All my focus has gone to making it my best piece yet. I don't think I've ever forged a finer sword. I'm sure it'll do well for Lia's birthday. I very much hope so, anyway.

I thought, though, rather than trusting it to a courier, perhaps I could deliver it in person? If that's alright. I know it must keep you terribly busy, being a very important Archmage. But if we could all find time, I'd love to take Cal up on that offer.

I'd love to see you. 

Yours, 

Dammon

Towerforge Correspondence

Dammon, Master Smith: Forge of the Nine,

In response to your latest and most ardently appreciated letter, I send a parcel which I dearly hope has not been separated from this missive. As the new caretaker of a monumental arcane assemblage, I have discovered among the relics of Ramazith a number of powerful instruments. It is my pleasure to pass along one such item to you now.

You mentioned, in previous correspondence, some frustration with your forge not sustaining a high enough temperature to work with infernal alloys. Enclosed is a wand charged with several uses of a potent evocation which should prove helpful. I've no doubt your capable hands will make fine use of a spell called Fireball, and I hope you will not take my caution as disparage toward your extraordinary skill or expertise. But do be careful. Lia nearly burnt down the tower with it the other day. I should despair to see my presumptive gesture bring you or your forge any harm.

Simply encant the words engraved upon the wand to activate it. There will, of course, come the time when its charges are expended, upon which I would be happy to refill it for you. I remain always and eagerly at your disposal, and you are most welcome to call at the tower whenever you should wish.

And Cal wants to cook dinner for you, he insists me to include.

Yours in most heartfelt sincerity, Rolan, Archmage: Ramazith Tower

[scourgemerchant]

��

Gilzo: Oh my god it’s been 10 years stop fucking around with my family holy shit.Mun: MMnnnnnnope!

[twincrusaders]

💣: Did they ever get caught in a situation because they were in the wrong place at the wrong time?

(Inbox never told me that asks had been sent omg!)Brie: Yes, several times. She has been out on patrol and has had the misfortune of bumping into Argents. Once she had gotten lost and ran into Tirion. This sort of thing happens less when she sticks by Ettore.Though recently she got her leg busted while she was trying to diffuse a situation in Stormwind due to being mistaken for one of the Scarlets that were potentially about to cause problems. Leon: He’s a bit of a cheeky shit, and hasn’t had the pleasure of being in the wrong place at the wrong time. 

[no-longer-a-hero-blog]

Have you ever fallen asleep with your visor on and someone thought you were awake?

[princeescaluswords]

Anons missing the narrative's entire point about it not being about power proves my point about them wanting a (white) power fantasy centered on Stiles, Derek or Peter. But, here's the thing. They don't really want a traditionally powerful Scott. They already claim he's OP while also deeming him weak. Because he's not white. They want him subservient to Stiles, Derek or Peter who will be the mighty archmage or fearsome alpha "as it should be" in their minds

Among the funniest instances of anon hate I get is when some person comes into my mailbox listing all the ways Scott McCall is deficient: he’s supposedly stupid; he’s supposedly weak; he’s supposedly immature and naive; he’s supposedly a bad friend.  They’ll list all the ways he’s less than some big, strong, white male alpha whose last name rhymes with Shale.  (I can’t help but notice that he’s not compared negatively to alphas like Satomi or Mrs. Finch.)   And then, after one last dig about how ‘he never accomplishes anything by himself,’ they’ll cal him a Gary Stu, and I’ll be left wondering if they understand how Gary Stu-s work.  They don’t, it’s just another slur they can hurl at him.

It’s almost as funny as when they talk about him being ‘blandly moral’ and his immature ‘black-and-white’ viewpoint (quoting the resident serial killer) as being disqualifying as an interesting or effective character, and then turn around in the same post and lambast him for poisoning Gerard as a fail safe (which saved peoples lives, including Derek Hale and his pack), for going with Deucalion (which saved people’s lives, including his and his friends’ parents), for warning Deucalion and working with him (which saved people’s lives), for any number of tough decisions that crossed the line from being a Pure White Knight.

Thus, while they pull a full Stiles – criticizing him for making mistakes while excusing his own mistakes by saying he’s too good – they’ll say he’s never lost anything, as if the fact that he lost not one but two girlfriends, he’s been tortured so many times it’s hard to keep count, he never got to be the lacrosse star he always wanted to be, he’s saddled with responsibility for a whole town and then a whole war while everyone else moves on – as if they aren’t even aware of what’s happened to him.

They know these criticisms aren’t true.  What they’re really complaining about is that he had the nerve to have morals, to be better than a white character, to have authority over white characters, to make his own decisions about his own life, to once in a while (but not often enough for me) hold shitty, entitled white boys accountable. 

The reason I know this?  Because they don’t put their names (even pseudonyms) to their asks.  They fill my inbox with bile and aggression and name-calling, but they know down deep that they’re just wrong.   

Reading their bullshit does help me pass the day though.

[prplpnk]

Letters

The battle against the Legion carries on. Caraenyl, who has been safely holed up at the Hall of the Guardian, only wants one thing.

This took me way too long to write lol. Please enjoy! <3

 My Dearest Kai,

 I hope this letter finds you doing well. Congratulations on being named Shadowblade, we have to celebrate that when you have the time. You must be very busy, with all this nonsense I hear coming from the Broken Shore; it feels like ages since you last wrote me, but I more than understand that you have very little time to yourself these days.

The Tirisgarde are keeping me busy with research; I’ve lost count of all the books I’ve read about Felo’melorn, but at least the fictional ones were a nice break from the monotony of facts and speculation.

This might not be possible to answer, but do you know when you’ll be able to meet up again in Dalaran? It’s alright if you can’t plan too far ahead, with keeping a strong presence on the Broken Shore, coming to the aid of people when packs of Legion randomly invade, plus setting up raids on the strongest Legion holds. I wish I could be there with you, fighting by your side, but nobody will give me permission! Archmage Hikoto says I’m not ready and that I’m most needed in the Hall, but I don’t really buy that.

Hardly a moment goes by when I don’t think of you. Please, please stay safe and don’t do anything too reckless or I’ll write El and Luu and ask them to drag you away.

I love and miss you, very much.

 All My Heart,

Caraenyl

After letting the ink dry, Caraenyl carefully folded up the painfully short letter, placed his love’s name upon it, and fed it into the magical portal upon the mailbox within the Hall of the Guardian, his home for nearly the last year. He sighed, hoping Kai wouldn’t be disappointed with how short it was.

Cara had been writing to Kai at least once a week since he’d been stuck in the Hall, a floating mage tower above Dalaran. At first, it was easy enough to fill up two or three pages, but of course back then had also included updates to his health and the wonders of being in such a magically-charged place; something the mage hadn’t experienced in years.

Now, with the charm warn off, his body fully healed, and his mundane job, Cara seemed to have very little to write to his fiancé about.

The mage sighed and made his way up to the sleeping quarters. It was getting late; most of the apprentices and those who maintained the Hall were getting ready for sleep, while others readied for the night shift.

Caraenyl’s bed was small and cold, sitting in a large room with many other similar beds, most already filled with softly snoring mages. Cara got beneath the covers, not bothering to change into nightclothes as they were never warm enough. Curling up tight, he knew it would be another night with little sleep. The large fire floating in the center of the room gave off a gentle glow, but little to no heat and the mage could never get warm enough.

He drifted off only to be awoken a couple hours later by a severe chill down his spine. Cara was freezing and he got up, keeping his blankets wrapped around him, walking towards the glowing fire. He almost thrust his hands directly into the flames, but it still took several seconds for him to feel the heat against his skin. The mage placed his slightly warm hands upon his face, a feeble attempt at transferring the heat.

Several minutes of this only managed to wake him up instead of really warming him and he groaned quietly in defeat. Tossing the blankets back onto the self-making bed, Caraenyl grabbed his long cloak and headed through the nearly empty halls to the portal that lead to the city.

Dalaran was only slightly warmer than the Hall, but still floated very high up; Cara was convinced it kept the chill from Northrend. The city was fairly quiet, the lanterns giving off a warming glow as towers stretched into the starry sky. Most of the shops were closed, save for blacksmiths and armorers; adventurers darted in and out of those buildings despite the late hour. The mage slowly walked the streets, letting his mind wander. He found it difficult to not think about Merekai and Elithuin, his dear lovers. It had been some time since he’d seen either of them; the Legion was keeping everyone on the front lines busy, including all of Cara’s friends.

Caraenyl sighed heavily, plopping down upon a bench near the bank on the Horde side of the city. He felt so useless; he’d been healed for many months now, but he still wasn’t allowed down into the Broken Isles.

It had been a mistake, poor judgement on his part. Cara had been so excited to actually defeat the Legion when they first returned to Azeroth (they were the ultimate force behind the destruction of Silvermoon, thus the true killers of his family) that he didn’t wait for the others. He had ventured into Val’sharah to first assist the druids with driving out the new kind of Nightmare that was poisoning the land. The Nightmare, as the mage found out, was vicious and unrelenting. Caraenyl had barely been able to get away from some kind of swamp creature and had been severely hurt in the process.

Twisted ankle, broken ribs, fractured wrist, broken arm, slight concussion, black eye and a myriad of bruises, bumps and lacerations; the healers at Dalaran were sure to point out every injury to Kai and El, who had both rushed to the mage’s side upon receiving the news. Neither looked happy and Cara couldn’t blame them. He promised to not do that again and to rest.

With Caraenyl not being in any condition to fight, the leader of the Tirisgarde suggested he help Edirah, the Tirisgarde Researcher, with looking into the full history of Felo’melorn. Cara found he didn’t have much choice and agreed, sitting at a table surrounded with books day after day. The mage quickly found that, while he did enjoy reading, doing research was extremely boring.

During the last year, Cara found himself certain of two things. One, Edirah was keeping most of the good books for herself and passing on the second-grade to crap books about the legendary weapon to Caraenyl; and two, Archmage Hikoto, leader of the Tirisgarde, had been asked by Kai and El to keep him safe.

The mage felt more than ready to be out on the field, killing demons and helping to destroy the Legion, all beside his lovers. All his requests to do so, however, had been denied.

He hugged his knees upon the bench; what he wanted more than killing demons was to just be with the men he loved again. He missed them so much; at least they’d see each other more on the front lines and could sleep together in tents between battles. Cara wanted to feel their warmth beside him again as he slept.

“Feeling sorry for yourself, are you?”

The mage jumped a little at the voice, looking up to see an undead woman walking up to him. She wore dark leather, her head hooded and face covered with a mask. Caraenyl could only make out the eerily dark sockets where her eyes should have been and he swallowed nervously. “E-excuse me?”

“You’re Caraenyl,” she stated flatly, standing beside the bench.

Cara glared a bit in suspicion. “How do you know my name?”

“I’m a member of the Uncrowned; Shadowblade Korveris talks about you all the time.”

The mage’s ears perked up. “You know Kai?”

“A little,” the rogue said, rolling her shoulders, “though I feel I know you more. The Shadowblade worries for you and that’s why I’m here.”

Sitting up, Cara smiled. “Kai sent you!”

“No, the stubborn fool doesn’t know I went looking for you. Doesn’t know a lot of things, that one.”

Confusion swirled around the mage’s head. “Well… you found me. What do you want?”

“You’re turning the Shadowblade into a tight knot of worry; he’s sending half of the Uncrowned to watch you when he should be sending them to spy on the Legion.”

“Why would—”

“Because of your letters!” the rogue snapped, her slightly hoarse voice sounding even more grated. “Every letter you send mentions how you want to go to the front lines in this war, but the Shadowblade knows you’re not ready and is fearful you’ll do something stupid.”

Caraenyl scowled, standing before the slightly shorter undead. “It’s been a year! A year of taking it easy, reading books, doing boring research; I am ready to fight!”

The rogue simply looked at him for a moment, Cara still not sure if eyes filled her dark, creepy sockets, before quickly striking. Her left foot swung out, scooping the mage’s right foot out from underneath him and he fell back, his right leg locking at the knee harshly, making him cry out as he hit the cold walkway. Pain shot from his knee and he reached down to gently rub at it, stiff muscles screaming at the touch.

“That injury is older,” the undead stated, crouching beside Caraenyl, “and it seems it never healed properly.”

The mage hissed, adding a bit of ice to his knee and choosing not to comment. It was an old injury, one incurred while invading Draenor. His right leg had pretty much gotten mangled while destroying the Dark Portal; once proper portals had been set up back to Azeroth, Cara had been escorted back home while his loves continued the fight against the Iron Horde. His leg took the longest to heal, but even then he had been warned that it might not ever be the same. The muscles healed too tightly around his knee and while Cara learned to walk without a limp, sudden movements that put too much weight or pulled the muscles taught across his knee would cause severe pain.

‘This time was supposed to be different….’ Caraenyl shook his head as the pain ebbed. “You got me with a cheap shot, I can handle myself.”

“Like you did in Val’sharah?”

The mage tried not to flinch as he sat up, slowly rubbing his knee. “I’ve admitted that was my fault. I should have waited for Kai and El to join me there.”

“You shouldn’t have gone at all!”

Cara glared at the rogue, starting to get annoyed. “If Kai had been there—”

“Then he’d been the one hurt, covering for you!”

“I wouldn’t let that happen!”

“How could you stop it? You couldn’t keep yourself from getting hurt, let alone protecting anyone else!”

Caraenyl’s hands curled into fists. “I nearly lost Kai on Draenor… I will never let that happen again.”

“He nearly lost you on Draenor! That’s why he’s keeping you away from battle now!” The rogue sighed, her next words soft. “He’s already gone through the loss of people he loves; Shadowblade Korveris doesn’t need to go through that again.”

Cara’s expression softened and he looked away, remembering Kai had been married many years ago and lost his wife to disease and childbirth, his child died only a couple years later due to a heart problem. That’s when he’d moved to Gilneas, abandoning the farmhouse he had.

Silence fell between them as Cara remembered his fiancé’s expression every time his past family was brought up, the sadness in his eyes and that spark of fear the mage could never understand. Maybe he did now. It was for him; looking back, the mage realized that fear was about losing another love. Caraenyl couldn’t blame him, he still had similar fears of Kai leaving him, although not as strongly as he once did.

Maybe… maybe the mage was being a bit selfish, wanting to fight beside Kai despite his knee. This undead rogue was right, he really was in no condition to fight properly and hold his own without putting those around him at a greater risk, too.

Caraenyl nodded softly in understanding; the rogue helping him to his feet. Her hands felt colder than his as she held them, again looking right at the mage’s face. “I hope the next letter the Shadowblade gets will ease his worries.”

Cara smiled a little and gently squeezed her hands in response, nodding again. His voice felt tight, his heart knowing what he should say to Kai but still not fully wanting to.

“The last thing I have to tell you is this: If you get yourself killed and put Korveris through that trauma again I will personally ask the Dark Lady to raise you as undead so I can kick your ass myself.”

The mage felt the blood drain from his face at the threat and he swallowed his fear to settle uneasily in his gut. “U-understood!”

The rogue stared for another moment before releasing his hands and walking away, cloak billowing behind her.

Caraenyl watched her back, confused for a moment before it fully dawned on him who he’d been talking to and he called out, “Avalina?!”

The undead woman stopped, looking over her shoulder. “That’s your only warning,” she stated and continued on the path, soon disappearing around a corner.

Cara stared after her, frozen in shock. Had that been Kai’s late wife? Would a member of the Uncrowned be worried or upset enough with how Merekai was behaving to come find the mage and talk to him about it? Cara had a feeling the person he’d talk to was in fact Avalina Korveris, but really had no way to prove it. Not that he really wanted to run to Kai and tell him; if that was Avalina, she would have told him, right? And if she didn’t, there was a reason for it and Cara realized it wasn’t his place to say anything. How happy would Kai be, anyway, knowing that his late wife was one of the walking dead?

Shaking off that revelation, Caraenyl returned to the Hall of the Guardian and climbed back into his small, cold bed. He no longer had any urge to sleep, but his still-sore knee needed to be put up for a few hours. He kept it iced as he stared out a nearby window, thinking about the next letter. It would have some finality to it and he wondered how his fiancé would handle it.

Several hours passed, sunlight was just starting to peer through the window. Cara’s knee felt better, but he was still careful as he made his way down to the desk he’d been occupying for the last year. He got out a fresh piece of parchment, ink, and his favorite quill and started to write.

 My Dearest Kai,

 I know I wrote you only yesterday, but there is something we need to talk about.

First, I’m sorry for the selfish way I’ve been lately. I guess you’ve always known that my right leg didn’t heal properly and I am no longer valuable in a serious fight. I see that now and I’m sorry to worry you. I no longer want to fight with you, not if it means I could be the reason behind injuries or loss of life. I was being stubborn.

Which brings me to my question; would you like me to go back to our home in the Hinterlands? I’ve learned the portal spell to Dalaran quite well by now so it wouldn’t be a problem to bounce back and forth to see each other whenever you get the time.

It’ll be hard being so far away from everything, but I’d rather be waiting for you to return safely than you constantly worried about my safety.

I love you, Kai. I look forward to your next letter.

 All My Heart,

Caraenyl

 The mage sighed, once again waiting for the ink to dry before folding the letter, addressing it to Merekai, and placing it into the portal upon the mailbox in the Hall. A small smile graced his lips when he returned to his desk.

Cara would wait; soon they could have their wedding and be together forever.

[bubbly-pixels]

anon opinion: pretty great. deserves better. fab art, fab rp.

[archmage--khadgar]

Out of idle curiosity, since it does hover; does your new wheelchair come with Dynamic Flight?

"Despite my many years of experience flying as a raven, they said I'm not "qualified enough", to be permitted that feature. Hmph!"

[archmage--khadgar]

Do we need to gather the splinters of Atiesh again?

".....Well. Hmn. At least hopefully there won't be a demon inside them?"

[archmage--khadgar]

“A cursed ship?” Bennas inquired, smashing through a wall, “The Dread Ship Vazuvius was a cursed ship.” With a righteous chuckled, Bennas departs, seeking to make another Bennas sized hole in a wall.

"Oh that's not what-...." Khadgar steeples his fingers, watching him leave. "...Well I suppose he's technically not wrong. Annnnd I need to find the bennas-wall-hole-tape."

[archmage--khadgar]

Most cursed ship? Probably Khadgar x Gul'dan

"I daresay that's cursed in more ways than one." Khadgar shudders.

[archmage--khadgar]

Khadgar, do you not know anything that goes on in your city?

"Well I thought I did! Apparently, not as well as I had assumed."

[archmage--khadgar]

Both kinds😏

"I'm not sure I enjoy the energy coming from that smiley face."

[archmage--khadgar]

Don’t forget we have arcane meat too

"You wound me. Wound me."