Lorellia (Everlasting Legends, Book 1)

Ch. 19 - Dearest Friend

Letter Addressed to Obtoxicullous

Obtoxicullous,

I hope this letter finds you well, and that you'll thank your mother for the lovely letter she sent me this spring. I intend to write to her again, but I should imagine you'll be reading your correspondence from me sooner. She says you always do.

It is with the greatest excitement that I write this particular letter. Ground has finally been broken on what some of the council members have affectionately deemed "an Island of Dreams"—the expanse of relatively flat land, isolated by a vast ocean, where we're to construct this Citadel of Magic. As you're likely already assuming, I'll neither confirm nor deny my role in the conception of that endearment. But on the subject of names, I learned that the humans call this ocean "The Whispering Sea." It sounds so beautiful in their language. That's quite a name, isn't it? Mysterious and evocative.

So far, we've spent an extended length of time in a newly established port, through which the Serellians have been supplying the stone from the northern mountains and timber from the valleys they promised as part of our agreement. Seeing the raw materials and touching them is almost like magic in itself, breathing life into my dream with something tangible.

I've met some of the mages in Serellia, Obi. Their tragic tales of what they've been subjected to in their short lives, solely because they've presented with magic, are enough that even my brother's heart would be moved; and not all of them are native to this kingdom. Some had traveled across the entire continent, motivated only by knowledge of rumor alone as to what we're doing here. I've heard more are arriving by the day now and that the locals are growing displeased by the influx of refugees. Perhaps it will spur their craftsmen into building the Citadel faster.

My makeshift lodging on the island has been adequate, if not a bit solitary. A few birds have begun to visit my windowsill. I didn't realize they flew so far from the continent, though I suppose it's reasonable to assume that the humans are not the only creatures we've drawn the attention of here. I can't wait to see this place thrive, Obi. It will be even more breathtaking than I imagined. I'm sure of it.

In regard to your previous question, the one I avoided answering in my last letter, as you so astutely pointed out, I did receive correspondence from Sansdan.

It sounded to me as though his parents, along with mine and our community leaders, do intend to proceed with the legal processes of my union to him despite my absence—upon completion of which, I'm certain they'll send orders requesting my immediate return to Kelluciel for the consummation. Though I do miss home and all of its comforts, I've never been more convinced that for now, at least, this is where I'm needed most—seeing this Citadel to fruition. I know how everyone at home has received this stance and may think less of me for it, but I don't see this mission as selfish.

These mages need a place to go, and they do not have the luxury of time as we do. You understand my conviction, Obi. I know you do. Surely, conceiving a child can wait.

Please, do tell me more about how you've been in your next letter. Your last was rather sparse in regard to your own doings, and I should love to read of what you've been filling your time with. I find myself wondering as often as I miss you, which has become terribly often.

Be well, my dearest friend...

-Alikite

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Ardaik 8th - La'Trest, Lorellia

Folian Spar had never been to La'Trest. In fact, the number of times he'd been this far away from Tulot was so few that he could count them all on one hand. It had taken them nearly seven hours of urgent flying to reach the Lorellian capital, and the stress of travel had clearly affected all involved by the time their dragons landed just outside the city walls. When he dismounted, the soft, rich dirt under his boots didn't help make his knees feel any less weak, either.