A Letter

[Redacted],

XXXX, XX XXXXXX, 201X

Victoria,

How are you? I pray that this letter finds you well; if not, don’t worry: I’ve a plan to hopefully help you and others with that. And today, I think we might be making some progress.

I guess I’d best start from the beginning on this one. I learned that I had a…”special” parent only after others learned first, and targeted and suborned a friend of mine (with a different parent.) But for a colossal mistake on his part, and my father’s timely intervention, I would’ve met the same fate.I wasn’t safe at home anymore after that, which is just as well as my (“normal”) mother had been turned herself, and all but threw me out when she realized that I wouldn’t be going with the “nice people from the church.” Needless to say, I was pissed, and between that and everything that’s happened since, I’m ashamed to admit that I haven’t really given her much thought…until now.

I’ve since realized that no matter how betrayed I felt — and still feel, to be honest — my chosen mission being what it is, I cannot leave family behind to be influenced by those responsible without at least trying to free her from it to make her own choice. If it turns out that she made this choice of her own volition, then I will accept it, and her rejection of me, as final. But if she made the choice under duress or brainwashing, I intend to free her — or if necessary, avenge her.

As you might have realized, having worked on the TPB*, I have been working on a more covert scale to subvert the Order for some time, but I’ve always wanted to up the ante, so to speak. I’m aware of the huge risks this’ll involve, and even though I’ve spent years pleading for the opportunity, I’m still surprised that Mamou Renard finally consented (albeit reluctantly), my hands are shaking even as I write this. Hopefully, it’ll be the last place they’d expect me, let alone our entire class, to suddenly appear, and the element of surprise will buy us time.

And with this, as I prepare my kit for one of the days I’ve spent years waiting for, I pray: that my mother will be the first of many to be prised from beneath the Order’s thumb; that we might continue to repay you and your friends of your inadvertent sacrifice; that we may, now and always, do justice to those who have and will fall before this fight is done; and that, when that day comes and passes, that we may all find quiet and comfort, in this World and the next.

Until we meet again,

Anne


Anne quietly folds the letter and stuffs it in an envelope, as she crosses the room to her closet. She pushes aside the neatly-hung clothing –,mostly redundant nowadays — to reveal a metal lockbox on a shelf within. She opened the box, adding the envelope to a small but growing stack of similar ones.

And may I, someday, know where to send these tho that they can actually reach you, she thought, as she turned back towards the small pile of gear and Relics on her bed.

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About logicalmob

"You tried gentle: my way worked."

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