flamecursed | evocate inbox.

[gives her a polite nod]

Mornin'. Got a delivery for ya.

[he pulls an unopened scroll from his coat and places it on the table]

[ she looks down at it, then back at him. ]

Is this a... letter?

[ wh

who would write her a letter. ]

Sure is. Someone asked a favor of me, so I'm playin' mailman this mornin'.

[ she slowly reaches for the paper. ]

From someone else who resides in this hotel?

[nods a bit]

From the young man with the eyepatch.

[ ?

?????????????

?????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????

?????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????

? ]

You must be in jest right now.

[this would be funny if it weren't so serious]

'M not the jestin' sort of man, lil' lady.

No, I suppose not. Still, I could never have guessed that he'd do this.

[ HE NEVER WILLINGLY TALKS TO ME. ]

Mmm, well. Sometimes folks do things ya don't expect of 'em.

This much is true.

Thank you for bringing this to me. I was not certain he was even speaking with others here.

[dips his head a bit]

Yer welcome. I talk with him a fair bit, think I've seen him talkin' to others too.

[ a long exhale. ]

That is heartening, at least.

[hmm. He makes a curious noise]

Ya worried 'bout him?

I'm not sure that I'd call it worried. We've killed each other multiple times.

[ people who are worried about each other surely do not do things like that. probably. ]

But I must move forwards, and we must co-exist. Perhaps it's that I'm glad he won't be lonely right now.

[probably. But he doesn't look surprised]

I did hear y'all had some history.

[he's purposely understating it. But he gives nod, jerking his chin to the letter]

Sounds like ya care 'bout him some way. This might be his attempt at movin' forward too.

Edited 2026-01-15 17:49 (UTC)

There's only one way to find out, I suppose.

[ does she feel a little awkward, reading the letter in front of a stranger? yes. but there's no real reason to wait, so she's opening it now. ]

[the letter is written on simple lined paper, and the handwriting upon it is gnarled. strangely wobbly and splotchy in places, as its author was unsure of how much pressure to put on these unfamiliar ball point pens, and was scared to break it.]

To the Emperor of Adrestia,

for whom I need no alternate means of address. For no other feels sufficient in conveying both the gravity of your sins, nor my loathing. I despise you. You have cost me all that I love. I must express this before I begin, to expunge it quickly lest my quill is diverted from its task. My penmanship has suffered for lack of practice. Nevertheless, it has allowed me this necessary rumination.

To the heart of the matter: it has been advised to me by this man that it would be a disservice to the dead not to learn the entirety of your motives. In my more lucid hours, I do acknowledge this... Though I have dedicated years of my life to investigating the truth of the Tragedy, it does not explain how the girl I met all those years ago at Lord Arundel’s mansion became the Flame Emperor. Should I accept that even then, you may have been lying to me?... Or perhaps you will simply lie now, to exonerate yourself. In good conscience I know you cannot be believed and it is a fool’s errand to try You are a poison

Every breath you breathe is a concession from me

You are

I cannot yet know what foul humour will overtake me; whether I am to drown in a sea of my own dark and bitter cruelty, or be crushed beneath an immovable despair. From within the cage of my mind, these feel like the only outcomes remaining to me. I will even confess to you that I am frightened. It is a dreadful, oppressive thing to be at your mercy, for the shadow of an axe above one's head does greater pain than the executioner's swing. I am already nothing. What lower sphere still awaits those too broken to live?

One more thing I will confess: at Gronder, it was not madness that took me in that final moment, but despair. I had the opportunity to retreat back into isolation, having lost all those who were still loyal to me. I chose to die. I do not think, in your state of retreat, that you noticed.

I will end this now, as I am falling into melancholy - a state even more pitiful than rage. Doubtless I will hear from you, whether I wish it or not.

[the letter is not signed.]

[ i am fully aware you hate me for crying out loud. ]

[ ah... at least he does seem to understand one of her points. ]

[ DEEPLY SQUINTING AT THE CROSSED OUT PARTS. ]

[ ah.

there's a long pause where she's not actually reading the words; she's cast her glance off to the side, churning what he means over in her mind. ]

[ a small sigh. maybe... she understands him a bit better. she's not sure yet. ]

I cannot help but be appreciative of the effort that was put into this.

[he watches her reactions quietly, expression curious but not overly so. When she finishes, he tilts his head]

Yeah? He able to get some of his thoughts out to ya?

He did.

[ especially "I HATE YOU". ]

And I suppose this shows me that not all of him is lost to madness.

A good chunk of him ain't. Only known him a few days, but he's been fine with me.

[minus how they met that doesn't count]

Ya want me to relay anythin' back to him?

[ an eyebrow raises slightly at "fine".

mostly because it's next to impossible to imagine him as fine for more than a moment. but, she supposes that her presence must have a worse effect on him. it would be strange if it didn't. ]

No, thank you. I will respond to him, even if he doesn't want me to, but I need some time to consider my words.

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