- 15th of Summer, 520
Tiptoeing around the prestigious amount of pigeon droppings, Madeira opened the door of the Dovecote Tower and arrived back in Lhavit a little sweatier than when she left. For a trip to the infamous Outpost, the Spiritist was traveling surprisingly light, returning with only an envelope of expensive, creamy black paper crumpled carelessly in her fist and a bottle of almost equally dark wine under her arm.
Altaira was there to greet Madeira, holding a large notepad shyly out in front of her.
Welcome back. Did you enjoy yourself?
"Yes, thank you", Madeira smiled tepidly and shut the door behind her. The Outpost was a miraculous discovery when she had first found it and discovered all the things one could buy and people one could meet from all around the world. But since she realized that letters could be sent in a matter of bells rather than seasons, it had rather soured her experience. "I received a letter from my family."
The dove keeper lit up to read the answer on her lips. She turned the notepad back towards her and scribbled frantically for a moment before showing it to her guest.
That is so nice! I hope you received good news.
"Me too. Have a good day, Altaira."
The deaf woman waved goodbye and went back to her task of caring for the Dovecote, and Madeira wandered into the city. Tenten was one of the quietest peaks, its population consisting mostly of scholars, doctors and students. And these days its streets were nearly empty, as the seasonal heat drove everyone inside. This serenity of the peak meant there was nothing to distract her from the unopened letter. She could feel the wax seal softening in her hand. The letter felt strangely hot. She knew it was just the arid Outpost where it was stored and the heat of her body that was making it feel this way. But another less rational part of her was wondering if the incendiary words were leaking out.
She had sent her last letter in the Spring. It was one she had agonized over for over a year before finally sitting down at her small writing desk to announcing the birth of her children, Moritz and Amelie Craven, born Spring first, 519 to an unwed mother and her crazed bondmate. She was glad she wasn't there to witness the fallout that letter would have caused. The Craven line was meticulously and religiously kept, dating all the way back to Deshira Craven herself. And after five hundred years, Madeira was the failure who had introduced kelvic into their pristine Craven blood.
She had bought the wine on a whim but she knew it wasn't going to help. She just had to take courage in the fact that these people were several thousand kilometers away and read it.
Madeira's wandering had taken her to the Syna temple, a gloriously opulent building flanked by pools of golden fish. She perched herself on the wall of the pond, took a deep breath, and broke the seal.
She had thought that the letter was several pages long, but was actually several different letters signed by different members of the family. The personal touch both surprised her and dropped lead into her stomach. Usually the scribe, her uncle Rune, was the one to respond to her letters, acting as the speaker for the entire family. His letter was still in there, short, direct and dry. She registered his disappointment in how she conducted herself and a wish for her and her children's health in their 'time of need' and moved on. Minvera, the second eldest, was next. Her letter was brutal in its delivery, somehow insinuating both that she was a whore and her children abominations without ever losing that perfectly civil word and tone. But it was Madara's letter, the cool-eyed matriarch and Madeira's namesake, that hit hardest.
As you seem to be unable to conduct yourself in a way that befits your name, we will be sending someone to do so for you. As such we may yet salvage your reputation. Conduct yourself with dignity and respect in regards to our decision moving forward or we may rethink your position as our presence in Lhavit.
Madeira read that first line, aloud and in her head, and stared at it for several long ticks before the subtext finally clicked. She couldn't be serious. That was just a threat, surely. They wouldn't actually send her a husband, would they? The thought dawned black and thunderous in her head. Because of course they would. Two birds with one stone: legitimatize their wayward daughter and give her a babysitter to keep her out of further trouble.
WC:783
Altaira was there to greet Madeira, holding a large notepad shyly out in front of her.
Welcome back. Did you enjoy yourself?
"Yes, thank you", Madeira smiled tepidly and shut the door behind her. The Outpost was a miraculous discovery when she had first found it and discovered all the things one could buy and people one could meet from all around the world. But since she realized that letters could be sent in a matter of bells rather than seasons, it had rather soured her experience. "I received a letter from my family."
The dove keeper lit up to read the answer on her lips. She turned the notepad back towards her and scribbled frantically for a moment before showing it to her guest.
That is so nice! I hope you received good news.
"Me too. Have a good day, Altaira."
The deaf woman waved goodbye and went back to her task of caring for the Dovecote, and Madeira wandered into the city. Tenten was one of the quietest peaks, its population consisting mostly of scholars, doctors and students. And these days its streets were nearly empty, as the seasonal heat drove everyone inside. This serenity of the peak meant there was nothing to distract her from the unopened letter. She could feel the wax seal softening in her hand. The letter felt strangely hot. She knew it was just the arid Outpost where it was stored and the heat of her body that was making it feel this way. But another less rational part of her was wondering if the incendiary words were leaking out.
She had sent her last letter in the Spring. It was one she had agonized over for over a year before finally sitting down at her small writing desk to announcing the birth of her children, Moritz and Amelie Craven, born Spring first, 519 to an unwed mother and her crazed bondmate. She was glad she wasn't there to witness the fallout that letter would have caused. The Craven line was meticulously and religiously kept, dating all the way back to Deshira Craven herself. And after five hundred years, Madeira was the failure who had introduced kelvic into their pristine Craven blood.
She had bought the wine on a whim but she knew it wasn't going to help. She just had to take courage in the fact that these people were several thousand kilometers away and read it.
Madeira's wandering had taken her to the Syna temple, a gloriously opulent building flanked by pools of golden fish. She perched herself on the wall of the pond, took a deep breath, and broke the seal.
She had thought that the letter was several pages long, but was actually several different letters signed by different members of the family. The personal touch both surprised her and dropped lead into her stomach. Usually the scribe, her uncle Rune, was the one to respond to her letters, acting as the speaker for the entire family. His letter was still in there, short, direct and dry. She registered his disappointment in how she conducted herself and a wish for her and her children's health in their 'time of need' and moved on. Minvera, the second eldest, was next. Her letter was brutal in its delivery, somehow insinuating both that she was a whore and her children abominations without ever losing that perfectly civil word and tone. But it was Madara's letter, the cool-eyed matriarch and Madeira's namesake, that hit hardest.
As you seem to be unable to conduct yourself in a way that befits your name, we will be sending someone to do so for you. As such we may yet salvage your reputation. Conduct yourself with dignity and respect in regards to our decision moving forward or we may rethink your position as our presence in Lhavit.
Madeira read that first line, aloud and in her head, and stared at it for several long ticks before the subtext finally clicked. She couldn't be serious. That was just a threat, surely. They wouldn't actually send her a husband, would they? The thought dawned black and thunderous in her head. Because of course they would. Two birds with one stone: legitimatize their wayward daughter and give her a babysitter to keep her out of further trouble.
WC:783
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