Shattered Kingdoms

Dear Brenton,

I don't even know why I bother to put quill to parchment: It is clear that you've no intentions of acknowledging me, let alone returning to my side as my husband. I am nearly eighty years old. We are nearing our end, and I am certain you would scarcely even recognize me today, which is terribly sad considering how long you have known me and been a part of my life.

I wasn't going to tell you any of this, but I hardly think it matters at this point. Clearly, none of this matters to you. This much I have told Essenza:

When I was young, people knew me as a dedicate of Sadr. I intended, upon meeting you, to bait you and draw you in to my realm of pain. I had done so with Chayton, and you were to be a great victory of mine. However, I grew to genuinely care for you, and I lost interest in the idea of hurting you -- or anyone else, for that matter. You completely changed the course of both of our lives simply by being you. Essenza doesn't know the whole truth, though. Only one other living soul does.

My heart belonged not to Sadr but to Thuban. I adored pain and suffering, but creating them through the veil of fealty to another God was part of the illusion I created to the glory of the Void. I talked with Cendre about the idea of damning my very soul to pretend to serve another deity, and she advised against it. So I never pledged to any faith, just showed public respect for Sadr whenever appropriate. It was at this meeting with Cendre when the demon spawn showed up and started eating flesh and all that nonsense, but this is the beginnings of a tangent, and I have much left to discuss.

Cendre and Toji were the only two that knew of my intentions, and they included destroying you under all of these false pretenses. However, you resisted my charms adamantly, at first. I know that I did not throw myself at you as Rashina or Xairlenia did, but I put myself on the line, and you ignored me. That tea with Xianara where all of you were fawning over her at the inn made my blood boil. There I was, attempting to catch your eye, and you were telling me all about how some other [REDACTED] was doing so.

So, I set out to really hurt you. I didn't care about the consequence. I called Tojishiro up for tea. I was sure there was no way that he could be as charismatic and appealing as the drones of women made him out to be. I was just going going to use him to harm you and be on my way. Unfortunately, I was wrong: He was captivating. I was taken.

So, I saw him several times. He was my confidant in the Court as well as in my secret faith. And we had this sinister secret that nobody we knew had any idea about. When you joked about how you admired him, about how you wished you could be like him, it stung like a whip to my flesh: He had something that was intended for you but that you pushed away. I didn't want you to be anything like Toji. I wanted you to be my Brenton. I stopped pursuing him, as well as everything else, when I realized that I actually loved you and could not hurt you with any passion or enthusiasm. I phased the Void out of my life, and the dark intentions upon which it was built. I wanted you, and nothing was going to keep me from being genuinely happy and genuinely loved.

Except you.

You've given me things I never thought I could know, and you have ripped them from me as soon as they were fully mine. I hate you, Brenton Whittaker. I hate what you've made of me: A scorned bride with solace only in her knives. I use them to cut myself. I dare not gather proper armor or swords, for if I did, I would kill everything and everyone in my path. I find comfort in the trickle of blood down my flesh. I feel still inside when the pain blurs my vision.

If you come to me now, know that I will end you life without a thought. Not that it would matter: Essenza, Ayero and those foolish elves you befriend are likely the only ones who would remember you. I try to picture what you must look like now, pulled upon by the weight of time. I know that I would be pretty to you if I had earned every one of my disgusting wrinkles while we were together, but I feel like you could not possibly find me desirous at this juncture.

Twenty years I waited to be yours, and fifty I have been, but you were never mine. It is a wasted life I live: None of that which I set out to accomplish nor that which I left my goals to pursue have come to fruition. Thanks a lot, husband.

- Ehlynn Shaw Whittaker

I absolutely loved Ehlynn. She was as much fun as she was deep and mischevious. I think I most enjoyed her pretending she was my character in order to kill Emiline. Good times