My dearest brother,
There was a light dusting of snow the other day, though none of it stuck around for more than a moment. I thought about the Mountain and how the sun would gleam from its peak all year round. How it reflected in the surface of the lake. I try to forget those things, but often they sneak into my thoughts when I least expect it.
I do miss home. You. Little Abbi. But I am not so alone any more. I am making friends. Me! Can you picture it, Eirikr: little Anya sitting in a tavern surrounded with jolly, sociable folk drinking ale! The thought of it would have been preposterous a year ago. But, not any more. I have met many interesting people and all seem to wish to live life to the farthest extent of their abilities. And everyone is so kind here. It makes me wonder what is so wrong with our family that we could never have such freedom.
There is Falros, so boisterous and funny. He used to fight brigands in the Bree-lands and now spends his days merry-making. Father would have thrown him out on his rear the moment he walked through the door. I like him, though. He has a kind heart — kind enough to assist me after a night of rather poor choices when it came to drink.
Next, there is Miss Teiblanc, an Elf like few I have met before. She reminds me a little of the daughter of Lord Haeron. You remember, the one with the silvery hair that could not stop smiling at you that evening at banquet? Father had said she was young and foolish for her kind. I think Miss Teiblanc is young for an Elf and I do not think that is a bad thing at all. She still feels connected to us here and I do not see her looking down at me as I have felt most of her kind do.
Another Elf-maiden, Eruviel, has offered me refuge in the form of her spare bedroom. I cannot believe my fortune! Living with an Elf! Abbi would be so jealous. He always said he wanted to live among the Elves and learn their secret to the undying life. Though, I always wondered if that was because of his fortunes. I worry about him, Eirik. Promise me you will take care of him even though you are busy with your new life with Ninim.
And then there is Mr. Morty Mossfoot. He is the town grave-digger and suffers greatly, though I do not think I have an inkling of all of the burdens he bears. You would probably not like him very much. Father would probably gut him. Come to think on it, so would Mother. He says he is not ashamed of the way folk warn me of him, but I cannot help to think how isolating it is. You see, he’s a bit of a “lady’s man” as one woman said. He flits about from lady to lass, appearing to never settle, though he said he was betrothed before it was discovered he had an illegitimate daughter. My, how I re-read this and find it quite the terrible account of his character. I do not feel as though this is the person -I- know. I see how he loves his daughter. How he took the time to help me find housing before I met Eruviel. How he allowed me to drag him into the Chetwood to find a lost pet. How he looks when he thinks no one can see.
Perhaps you will frown and say that is not what a Tenorbrook does in society. I can hear Father’s voice in my head: “A Tenorbrook does not consort with grave-diggers and mercenaries! A Tenorbrook does not spend her time in town taverns and cavorting about a forest at midnight! A Tenorbrook does not find herself alone with a man!”
But am I a Tenorbrook any more?
I have my doubts that I will be welcome in our parents’ home. Once this would have terrified me. What have I if not the shelter and benefits of our father’s “love”? How can I possibly survive without his benevolence? How could a stupid girl like me be able to live in the world without him?
But enough of that. You know who our father is and what he is like. I do not have to tell you.
Now that I do not have to pay for a room, I might consider trying to find someone traveling East to bring these letters to you. I want you to know that I am okay. It is the least I can do after what I have done.
All my love,
Your little Anyatka