Kor 17 1333 YS
I know I have not written for some time, my love. I have been focussing on speeding towards you, so I don’t miss you while you are at the festival. It has been a lonely few weeks, for I have not seen any sign of my companions. I am sure that they are in the lamp, which seems to weigh heavier in my pack with each passing day.
Inky and I travel mostly by night. We encounter less trouble that way. During the day, I had traveled alone, Inky off wherever it is that he goes when he is not here with me. After the third round of “you shouldn’t be traveling alone, little missy,” and “here let me help you into my wagon, for goodness sake,” I decided it was best simply to avoid people altogether. Nobody travels the highways at night, and though incredibly lonely without my companions, it was safer in the long run. Inky is the perfect steed for traveling on at night, because though I can’t see as well as he, his vision at night is perfect and make great time. We avoid towns, except when I need to provision, and even then, I slip in and back out again with few the wiser to my passage.
Crossing Aetrelia was quite uneventful, and the border crossing into Drusas was about as complicated as I had imagined. The Imperial guard were searching and heavily taxing anyone foolish enough to cross The Freedom at Aesis. I went to the Bellflower’s man I knew at the docks. His name is Relix Bounderball, a halfling smuggler. He was able to sneak me onto a fishing troller that deposited me across The Great Freedom River at a well-known landing. Of course I had to deal with the River Falcons, but at least I am somewhat known to them. I avoided using your name as a means of passage, but they seemed to already know well your reputation, and that I was at one time your “companion”. I had to giggle at that. I don’t think they realize the nature of our companionship, nor did I feel it necessary to enlighten them. In all, the city of Olispo has been kind to me, and I even stayed in “our room” at the Old Bones Inn. Mercury sends her best, as does Palator. Sad news, Old Marsden finally passed. He was seventy-nine, and a chill took him quietly in the night. Oh the stories he would tell. He always made me want to go back in time and be a part of the heroics. Well, when that stupid lamp granted my wish, I thought differently about the matter. But still, having a chance to make such a difference in those people’s lives…
Well, my love. I have been yawning and yawning. I need to get my rest. I shall continue to write, but hopefully next time, I can simply hand you the letters myself, or even better, tell you all about my journeys first hand.
I love you, and am counting the moments until we see each other again. It should take less than two weeks to trek up the Cartenden Highway, so who knows – I may arrive even before this letter. Ahh, I forgot. I received another of your letters today. It was an early one and had been returned as undeliverable. Silly messengers.