DarkFyre Ch. 08

What a pompous way to begin a letter. I've written so many letters to you just so. Stiff, formal, like we are two stuffed shirts sitting across the dinner table at some highborn court function.

But that's not really us, is it? I've always been a man of simple words and deeds. I hardly known the man you've become, but I can say with the certainty of my gut that you are the same. So why, I've asked myself, especially recently, do we cling to these formalities and stiff diction? Why do we not speak simple and plain and from our hearts, Father to Son?

Because we are men, of course. You are a man of honor just as I strive to be, and we speak as one honorable man to another. On one hand, it makes me proud. Proud that I have a good, honorable, strong son to carry on my line. And on the other...I want, just once, to speak with you as, simply, my son.

Rael. You may never fully understand just how proud I am of you, of what you became, and what you will one day become. I knew the first time I held you in my hands, so small and frail and new, that you were destined for great things. I see those great things in you already.

But I confess, I am afraid for you as well. Your Mother often said I had my own special version of the Sight. I'm not prescient; I cannot part the veil and take visions of what may be as some seers do. But I get feelings, now and then, and those feelings are strong, and often right.

I see darkness around you.. A heaviness of danger and risk. I cannot say what form this takes. Logically, you are surrounded by it every day of your life at the front, waging this long, terrible war. But I feel this is something different. Something more sinister, and thus more worrying.

So I say, guard yourself, my son. Be vigilant. Know that great men are loved, as you will be, and men who are not loved will forever hate you for that greatness. You will be a mirror held up, showing them all their faults and wickedness and shortcomings by the things you are that they can never be. Such men can never abide to see those things in themselves, reflected from your greatness. They will smash you before suffering to look upon their twisted reflection.

It won't be long now. My death draws near. I feel it in my bones and in my blood, this sickness. It will take me soon.

Heed my words, my son, as they will likely be the last I send you.

Be brave, and valiant. Be just. This world knows too little of justice and virtue. And be kind, for the world knows even less of kindness. Hard men and warriors such as we can be kind. It costs us nothing, and can give everything to those who know nothing of kindness or a caring word. I have seen much cruelty in this world, and I know you have seen the same. It is a hard thing, knowing as a soldier, you've given that cruelty to other men. Men who may have been good fellows. Men who didn't deserve to have life snatched away too soon. The things we do as soldiers and warriors are necessary, yes, but not always right. Grant kindness where you may, so you don't lose yourself in necessary cruelty.

The arrangements have been made, Rael. All is ready here. Your place at the front is vital, and you cannot turn your gaze from the Haruke. I have arranged for the estate and holdings of House IronWing to be attended when I pass, so you do not have to return until such a time as it is sensible and convenient. Do not forsake the efforts of your command. All will hold until you are ready.

I think, from time to time, that it may be better for you to come. A place in my heart longs to see you one last time. But then, I think of you, seeing me as I am now. The way you knew me when I was proud and strong erased forever by final memories of me as I am now, decaying and slipping away. And I cannot bear that thought. Your memories of me would be forever changed and, knowing that, my final memories of you would be, too.

It is better this way, for you and I. We both know that.

Goodbye, my son. I go to join our forefathers, forever proud of you, and forever loving you.

I ask one final thing. Please, watch over my kitten. My favorite one. You will know her when you see her. She is strong, and fierce in her way, but she will need your strength more than you know. Protect her. She is worth it.

Lord Edwin IronWing.

Father.

***

Silmaria clutched the letter to her breast, and rolled up into a tight little ball on her pallet, sobbing in great, heaving gasps until she was sick from her tears.

***

DarkFyre is burning its way into my brain at an alarming rate. I am digging it, big time. I hope everyone is having as much fun reading it as I am writing it. As always, questions and comments of all sorts and kinds should be directed to me.