Artemesia Family/Mahalo

A penitent man looked into the mirror. They said he was a hero, but he did not look like one. He placed a hand on the metal surface, and he saw the blood that ran from the hands that brought death without thought. He had broken the contract. That was why, he understood, at last. He broke the contract so his life too he had agreed to forfeit. But it would not have to end this way. Not for all of them.

He wondered in thought, a pensive reflection, cast away by the myriad facets. There was a time long ago when he had been the youth whose ideals of heroism were fresh and alive. The contract was for honor, not the contract for life. And what if he chose a different path? Such would not be out of the question, for one did not have to walk the single path to only an end in death. The hero gave pause and sighed a cloudy regret into the mirror.

It was his face, but he saw through the fog, to the face long ago, before the contract was broken. That was the one who in silence allowed the seed to grow, and in vanity read the White Book of Awakening. In the greater state of mind, his beliefs were mixed, and in the grip of the Sacred Mace of Blood, he took his dread role. But no! The hero tried to wipe away the blood, but it dripped forth from the very metal of the mirror. Never could that past be rewritten, but he smiled. For he understood.

He looked upon the face of the boy who shared his younger face. If not he who would change his fate, then another would cast the rock. The hero saw the sun beyond the peak, and he rejoiced, for soon he would walk freely again, in another shell. Soon he would see the rising sun again, through different eyes.

The pages were set; the map was placed. When the boy learned to read the passages of awakening, then he would resume at last the life lost now. The mirror hummed and the mist dripped in tears. But the hero understood that there would be no better chance to right his regrets.

And so the boy would rise, and walk, and speak, but he would not awaken. Not yet. Not until he broke the restricting bonds, and in the dream of waking, he would right the regrets his rueful self made. Then, and only then, would he learn to awaken.

Dear Marissa,

It has been such a long time since we have heard from you, and I can speak for the entire family when I say that we are most happy to at last complete correspondence with you. Your husband Lawrence is well, I hope? The northern coast of Sasrhas must be doing wonders for you both.

We have not heard from Jared either. Though each day Micah and I pray, a part of me fears that our son is already dead. But no news came from the wild lands of Beluaterra. It would be a most sad outcome if Jared would have to see an end to his career, unrecognized for his contributions, like my brother Nathan, but I suppose there is nothing we can do about it. Jared chose his path, and I can only pray that he is still alive, or, if he did find death, that he was at peace.

As for your question about a "Mahalo" who claims to be an Artemesia, and even claims to be Jared's brother, Micah and I can both assure you that Jared was our only child. As far as I know, no other member of the family bears a name remotely resembling "Mahalo". Are you certain that you did not mishear a rumor? They are rumors, after all.

But this is enough of me on such heavy things. We at last have heard from you, and we would be most pleased to welcome you back to Commonyr for a grand reunion. It is unfortunate that our three heirs of the next generation will be unable to attend, but Kalen, who had long ago decided to stay here in Commonyr, will be most eager to meet you.

May the Winds Guide You Safely,

Lorn Artemesia

Dear Lorn,

I too am most excited to at last see our home after a separation of...well, I forgot how long it has been! Ah but that is no matter, because we will soon all be together again. As for the rumor, I am sure of it now. The banks in Arcaea, an ally of the realm Ohnar West, in which I currently reside, has reported that the duchess of their capital has transferred some gold to someone named "Mahalo Artemesia". All four reports spell the name the same way. However, the interesting part is that all four bankers have said that they never saw Mahalo in person, and that it would always be his captain, or a dog carrying his seal, who would accept the gold. The seal is indeed the Artemesia family seal, or so the bankers' descriptions would suggest. I am sure something is going on, but Lawrence tells me to just forget about it. How can I forget when that Mahalo claims to be the brother of Jared, the boy whom I raised like my own son, and with whom I have traveled and served for so many years?

It is not my place to mind the matters of the Artemesia family. This, I understand, but please, I urge you to find out the truth about this noble in Arcaea.

May Jared be safe and find his way home.

Ever Smiling is the Maiden,

Marissa