BOMBS AWAY ➤ kaz brekker

the first letter

To my darling daughter,

     Three dreams I will share with you. And this, being the darkest dream, is the one I must share with you first. As I told you many times when you were just a little girl, it is always best to get the hardest part out of the way.

     I have a dream that you will have a lavish funeral. I know it seems strange to speak of these manners, but funerals leave a lasting impact on one's legacy. Your father's family have a tradition of simple funerals. There is a graveyard at the edge of the woods close to the boundaries of the Janssen land, where all past Janssens have been buried after death. Few people are invited, and fewer luxuries can be found. It is sad, and dreary, and I wish with all of my heart that your casket will be inlaid with precious jewels.

     Your stepmother, on the other hand, would insist upon being buried under the ice. She wishes it to be so, in order for her to be near to her god. She wishes to join Djel's roots. To be honest - and this is to be between you and I alone, my dear - Fjerdan religion seems quite extreme and altogether dreadful. I know your sister can be cruel, but I would never hope for her to be buried in some cold, dreary place, where the wind howls constantly and no one can ever visit her grave. 

     You and I were meant to have beautiful funerals, my dear. Yes, death is heartbreaking, and a terrible ordeal, but if I am to be buried under the earth I would at least hope for some sort of procession. It must sound vain to you, having been raised under the humble ceiling of a Kerch farmhouse. But for us to be laid to rest with little ceremony would be a slight to our honor. We are deserving of something grand, so that even in death, people will look upon us with wonder and respect. A procession, of course, would be necessary. Many guests must be invited as well. Guests of noble lineage who wear crowns on their heads and keep golden coins in their pockets for casual use. Guests who have seen kingdoms fall. Guests who will weep at the dreary beauty of our deaths. We must be kept in a golden-and-crimson casket and buried under a mystical flowering tree, or behind a waterfall. 

     I hope you do not read this too soon, for I know it may be a disturbing subject to think of as a child. However, once you are older, it is important to make the necessary arrangements. By the time you have read this letter, I am confident you will be with me once more. We can leave your father, your stepmother, and your sister behind, and you can come live with me. Do you remember when I told you stories of a palace of dreams? You will come to live with me there. Everything will be golden, I promise you, my dear.

With all my heart,        

Nekhii