Wednesday, January 4, 2023

Protectors of Truth

An ancient book slams closed, shooting puffs of dust into the air. Across the plains, horses ride hard, snorting in heavy breath as saliva foams at their mouths. The riders know the risks and how far they can push it before they’ll fall to their death. A battle looms. 

Far to the west, a legend steps down conjured stairs of ice. It is said that at a snap of his fingers, blood turns to ice. It’s said that the ground freezes under his feet. That he lives high up above and that’s why the mountains have snow. 

He looks out in earnest towards the fighting. His kind do not typically get involved. He could end this war simply and abruptly and yet he remains behind, like a coward. His master has not sent the summons. He will wait, impatiently.

He sneers at the horizon and begins his stroll around the grounds. The chill is harsh in the air. The snow has formed an ice crust that cracks and reforms stronger with each step he takes. He looks to the sky. There should be a bird soon. Frowning, he slowly makes his way back up the ice stairs and into his chambers at the top of the tower. He must make preparations. In his heart, he feels war’s beck and call.

His apprentice shivers as he works by the fire and adds logs to try to amplify the heat. “That was a short walk, Master Aemon” 

The apprentice is met with a severe frown at the gull. “I’m expecting a message…”

“I would have found you.”

Aemon stands at the open window, welcoming a breeze that feels warm on his skin. He crosses his arms, pulling his heavy fur cloak close around his thin frame.  

“Would you like me to send for food Master Aemon?”

Aemon does not turn around but leans forward on the sill. “You are dismissed for the day.” He smiles at the lack of argument as he hears the apprentice pack up belongings and depart Aemon’s chambers. His eyes finally spot what he was waiting for. A hawk racing for the tower. It flies through the window, and lands on the heavy fur about Aemon’s shoulders. Aemon carefully unrolls the scroll and as he reads, his face grows more and more pensive and sad.


If you are reading this, I’m, afraid I didn’t make it, my friend. I wished I could say I leave behind riches and write out, item by item who gets what, but I’m afraid all I had is been lost (left behind with my father). Well…almost all. I leave now that which I love the most and I need your help protecting her Frostie. I’m sorry to burden you with this. I’m sorry I’m not there to raise my beautiful girl. I’m sorry I couldn’t change the world to make it a safe place for people like her. I know you understand and I’m hoping you’ll honor my request. Please take in my daughter and raise her as if she were your own. Teach her the discipline I never had. Let your halls be filled with the laughter that has filled me with so much joy.

All my best,

Narod Sveren Casinov 

PS….Lindy will be hard pressed to leave her child so you might gain a delightful cook.

PSS….Do not, under any circumstances allow Lindy to rename my little girl. She is a ray of sunshine and shall remain as such. 

Love you, bashful boy. May she awaken the spirit in you that you always feared. 

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