My dear brother,
I write this in my journal. The one you made for me last summer for my twenty-second birthday. I still remember the face Father made when I opened your package. I know that you will always love me no matter what I do.
So I hope that you understand why I left, though I doubt now that I will ever be able to see if you do. I am lucky to be sitting here by this poor excuse of a lake looking north to the walls of a town sitting on a sloping hill. It is nothing like Dale, here, Eiri. I do wish you could see it. I wish you were here beside me.
Then I would not have to regret never saying good-bye.
I know I cannot send this to you. The roads we traveled grew increasingly dangerous. Just yesterday, my caravan was attacked and now I am alone. I do not know what happened to Bookie. I ran so fast, Eiri. I never knew I could run so fast.
I want to come home. I want to see you and Mother and even Father again. Abbi and Thyrna. I miss you all.
I send you my love. Across all the vast stretches of country between us, I send you my love with all of my heart.
Wish me luck, big brother. I can’t put off going into town any more. I’m out of food and days are growing colder.