I had a dream last night. I was back at the Thorton’s ball. You know, the one, the harvest ball? Lady Thorton had decorated the staircase of her porch with all sorts of gourds and legumes in honour of the festival. What a waste it was, especially as it created this dreadful maze we all needed to wander through to make it into the house proper.
And once inside, it seemed more of the same. Animals upon the table, crafted from gourds and legumes and beans. Birds were plumed with wheat feathers. It was ingenious, but I can’t imagine the waste of food. It was lavish; what one had come to expect from a Thorton ball.
I wanted very little to do with any of it. I was in the middle of finishing a book. Something terribly important to my research at the time. I’d secreted it away in my pocketbook. My mother would have been appalled. Father would have just clucked his tongue and given me that look (you know the one, that particular one in which all fathers everywhere seem to excel, that indicate that you have displeased them in some way). I think Great Uncle Alten would have understood, but he still would have pointed out that our place in society demands that we fulfill our duty and obligations, no matter how onerous they seem to be.
Yet, I still remember making myself scarce, and venturing out to a moonlit veranda. You found me there, as I recall, and although quite tempting, I still made the attempt to read my book. You were quite diverting, and charming that evening. I may have even danced that night, trying not to tremble in your arms, my thoughts far from my research and lost for the remainder of the evening.
You, kind, dear, wonderful Bryce, achieved the unimaginable and pulled me away from my studies. It was that night I knew what our future would bring, and I knew, that if I were to achieve my goals, see my dreams bear fruit, that I would need to leave you.
So I left, and now I find myself, deep in the bowels of the earth, far below a ruined enclosure created by ancient mages of astounding potential. Likely because they had found a way to mine potentium from the depths of the earth in which we now find ourselves. Although, that seems to come with its own trouble, most of which seem to involve a lot of undead and spidiers.
For now, we’re trying to determine a safe way to disengage the drill and deal with the undead. Perhaps that old bar bet loss may prove of assistance, now that I can converse with the undead, but these don’t seem inclined to speak, and are rather more forceful with their actions.
I will right more soon, and at that time, I hope I’ll be able to indicate how we successfully concluded our business here.
You remain in my thoughts, and my dreams,