Kerii sat with a blanket wrapped around herself. A warm mug of coffee sat on her table. She stared at the ceramic decorated in a starry pattern. A blank piece of paper with a fountain pen on top of it rested next to it, waiting to be written on. The elf let out a light sigh. Her father told her to write to him every now and then once she left. She wanted to. She really did, but she was at a loss for words. Kerii glanced over at the small wooden box embellished with silver metal. It had yet to be wrapped, but she would send it as a thank you gift, along with the letter she still needed to write.

When her memory was lost, her father had taken her in. The last thing she could remember was her mother's death. She remembered being filled with guilt. She felt that her mother's death was somehow her fault. If she had just not left to become a mage for Lamia Scale, she might have been able to see the signs of her illness before it struck her dead. If she pursued a career in medicine whilst practicing healing magic, she might have been able to save her, but c'est la vie. There was nothing she could do about it but live with the burden of what she could have done, and what she actually did with her life.

In an attempt to make it up to her father, she started fulfilling the sort of life he wanted her to all along. She took some classes on medicine. She honed her healing powers, but it was all for nothing. Carnil eventually had come back, and Kerii regained a good portion of her memories. It was in no way, shape, or form her fault that Meldë had died. It was Carnil's. He was the one who poisoned her. For what reason, she still did not know. Even after having all her memories return, there were still so many questions she had, none of which she had a sliver of the answer to. Staring out the window, Kerii secretly hoped Carnil would return. As time went on, she got to see more sides of his personality. She initially thought he was a sadistic sociopath, but there was something else to him. She could feel it. His actions never quite lined up with his explanations. If it was one thing she learned from being part of this crazy mishap she called a family, it was that no one could ever take anything at face value. Doing so would just lead you down a twisting, winding road to no answers. So far, every ounce of Kerii's knowledge in relation to the Tathvirs was explicitly told to her. None of it she had discovered on her own, which was quite worrisome. The elf was intelligent. The wasn't much she couldn't solve on her own. Perhaps it was just how personal this whole ordeal was to her. Perhaps her emotions were clouding her thoughts. Regardless, there was only one way to figure it out. She picked up her pen, and began writing on the paper in Elvharin script.

bloop :3

She would address the letter not to her "father," but to him, using his full name. She didn't know if this was customary in human families, or even in most elven ones, but her father raised her to be quite formal, especially when addressing those older than herself. That, combined with the fact that she and her father weren't exactly what most would call close, resulted in her decision to act as if she was writing to a former teacher or mentor.

Dear Túrelion Virrel,

Firstly, I wanted to thank you for letting me stay with you while I regained my memories. I enjoyed studying medicine, just as you predicted. I am sure I would have loved having a career in relations to it, but as you know, I found my calling in something else. Regardless of whether or not it is to your liking, it is what I have always wanted to pursue. When I left, you were much more respectful of my wishes than the last time, and for that I am grateful, but I am even more so in regards to all that you did before. Enclosed in the parcel attached to this letter, you will find a quaint little box I picked up while in Orchidia's markets. It's handmade from elven merchants who were passing through. I hope it is to your liking... but with that formality aside, I have a few questions I would like to ask.

Why? I completely understand why you would have wanted to keep me from the Tathvirs when I was a young child, but you would have to come clean eventually. When I left, I left without knowing a thing about what could happen to me, to Meldë... I did not even know Carnil existed. I had always assumed that we were simply estranged from the Tathvirs due to some family drama, but I had no idea how grave it was. Had I been prepared, I likely would have dealt with it significantly better. Meldë, my mother and your wife, might not be dead. The spirit Ëala might not be within me. The Tathvirs as a whole might not have messed up our lives. So, that again, leaves the question: Why did you choose not to tell me this before I left, and before things got out of hand?

It also occurred to me that you might not have known everything, so another question I have is how much did you actually know? Surely, Meldë would not have kept that much information away from you. You must have known that something was up with her family at one point or another. You could not have just gone on living in ignorance about it. I know I certainly could not have. With that being said though, I am still glad you did not tell me anything before my memories returned. I am not sure how I would have reacted, but it could not have been well. That is not an excuse though for never telling me what was going on before I had gotten amnesia.

I did not want to ask you any of this in person. From our previous arguments, I know it would not have gone anywhere. I tried to be respectful in this letter, and I wish for you to do the same in your reply. I am an adult now, and I believe we can keep this discussion civil, unlike when I was just a teen. I am looking forward to your reply.

Your daughter,
Atani Virrel.

bloop :3

Finished with the letter, Kerii let out a sigh. She sealed the letter and wrapped the box in brown paper. She tied all together with a white string and addressed it to her father's house in Crocus. He worked in the city most of the time, but he traveled every now and then. If she was lucky, he would receive and reply rather quickly. Crocus was not too far from Orchidia, after all. Still, she would just have to wait and see.

The elf walked over to the post office and mailed the letter and parcel to her father. She hoped that he would be calm in his reply. Well, that's if he actually replied at all. In the past, when they argued, it tended to get rather heated. That being said, the last time she confronted her father about something was when she was roughly 16, which was on the matter of her leaving home to join a guild. Obviously, Túrelion was not too keen on that. After leaving home, Kerii had hardly spoke to her father until her mother died. It was sad that a family member's death had to be what got them on speaking terms again, but that was the reality of their relationship.

Kerii ended up waiting longer than expected for the letter from her father to arrive. When it did, her hands slightly shook as she took it out of the envelope. She braced herself when opening it. She was expecting a long, winded reply, but when she unfolded the letter, it was surprisingly short:

Dear Atani Virrel,

Thank you for the gift. It is quite lovely and I am sure I will make use of it in the near future, but as for your questions, there is a lot of which I want to say, but not much I should. I know how this situation must seem from your perspective, but believe me when I say that what I did was for your own benefit. Had you known what I did, I am sure you would try to fix the situation, and seriously harm yourself in the process. This is a grim time for both of us, and I wish I could do something to remedy this, but I unfortunately cannot. Your aunt, Riniya, practiced Spirit Magic. I believe Carnil also currently uses the same branch of it, and that is something no elf should meddle with. You are unlikely to find many books on it. Trust me, I have tried. I do not wish for you to follow the same path the Tathvirs did. I just want you to know that all I do is to keep you safe and sound. With Ëala, that may be more difficult, but I will still try. I was not very supportive of you when you left, and I still do not find your situation ideal, but I am proud you are making a difference in the world in one way or another. Just keep doing what you are doing, and I will try to come up with a solution.

Sincerely,
Túrelion Virrel.

As Kerii read through the letter, she was admittedly quite disappointed. She wanted answers. That was her whole purpose of writing to her father, but alas, not much cropped up. All he confirmed was that Carnil and Riniya used Spirit Magic, which she had already assumed. Although he claimed that he was proud of her, nothing he did in person reflected that. She was happy that he was trying to get Ëala out of her, but she was actually quite offended that he didn't think she was capable of doing so. But it didn't matter what he thought. She didn't have to listen to his words. She would take matters into her own hands.

- exit-