My Dear Doctor,
Another letter in the space of days? How do I manage such feats? You're shocked, I know. So am I, but then there is little to occupy my days (save idle conversation), so letters to you are a welcome distraction.
Another fine evening (always, I use the term loosely) has passed at the institute, and on top of the usual cavalcade of monstrosities, we now are gifted with the undead! Truly, I hope the rumors are true and Landel has managed to be eaten by one. I would love to Cure him of his malady.
Unfortunately, speaking of Cures and their Glorious Properties, two companions of Dias seem to have come under the same affliction I hope has killed off Landel. I make no move to cure them, lest the spell backfires and kills them both. I would like it very much if Dias didn't skewer me like a piece of poultry in that instance.
I am incensed with Master Luxord, though it is simply pride that has me riled. I know that, and still wish to smack the smarmy grin off his face in righteous anger. Perhaps this shall pass, perhaps not. I know a man without a heart would think little of lying to a person. I doubt it even crosses his mind when he does it. It appears I need to better guard myself against that kind of man.
Or any kind of man. Nor do I wish to be treated as though I need to be protected! I am not some fae princess who breaks if touched! Certainly, I've dirtied my hands with the blood of more men than any maiden my age, and have done so willingly. I know it pains you to think of my duties on the battlefield, Dear Doctor, and forgive me for reminding you so. But is it not the truth? Eventually, one of these men will step too far, and I shall be forced to throttle him for the sake of my honor.
And the longer I remain here, the more attractive that option appears to be.
Today is Sunday, according to their calendar, and visitors come. I wonder who shall appear for me this time, if any do at all? Will it be dear Noah (who, even if he's disappeared again is still a buoy of sanity in a sea of stupidity)? Or someone else from our homeland? I hope, Dear Doctor, that I never meet you here. To do so would certainly break my heart. Perhaps if it is indeed Noah, he will bring me roses again. The ones from last week have already wilted, sadly.
Always Yours,
Celes
Another letter in the space of days? How do I manage such feats? You're shocked, I know. So am I, but then there is little to occupy my days (save idle conversation), so letters to you are a welcome distraction.
Another fine evening (always, I use the term loosely) has passed at the institute, and on top of the usual cavalcade of monstrosities, we now are gifted with the undead! Truly, I hope the rumors are true and Landel has managed to be eaten by one. I would love to Cure him of his malady.
Unfortunately, speaking of Cures and their Glorious Properties, two companions of Dias seem to have come under the same affliction I hope has killed off Landel. I make no move to cure them, lest the spell backfires and kills them both. I would like it very much if Dias didn't skewer me like a piece of poultry in that instance.
I am incensed with Master Luxord, though it is simply pride that has me riled. I know that, and still wish to smack the smarmy grin off his face in righteous anger. Perhaps this shall pass, perhaps not. I know a man without a heart would think little of lying to a person. I doubt it even crosses his mind when he does it. It appears I need to better guard myself against that kind of man.
Or any kind of man. Nor do I wish to be treated as though I need to be protected! I am not some fae princess who breaks if touched! Certainly, I've dirtied my hands with the blood of more men than any maiden my age, and have done so willingly. I know it pains you to think of my duties on the battlefield, Dear Doctor, and forgive me for reminding you so. But is it not the truth? Eventually, one of these men will step too far, and I shall be forced to throttle him for the sake of my honor.
And the longer I remain here, the more attractive that option appears to be.
Today is Sunday, according to their calendar, and visitors come. I wonder who shall appear for me this time, if any do at all? Will it be dear Noah (who, even if he's disappeared again is still a buoy of sanity in a sea of stupidity)? Or someone else from our homeland? I hope, Dear Doctor, that I never meet you here. To do so would certainly break my heart. Perhaps if it is indeed Noah, he will bring me roses again. The ones from last week have already wilted, sadly.
Always Yours,
Celes
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