A letter that's none of your concern

[hannemannenyay 20]

   I remember my first day after leaving my old life behind, my childhood. I had made my way to the cloud tempel, as I had been told that it was a central point for any adventurer to start. And it was, of course, you can get jobs, information, rumors and all the like. But that isn’t interesting any more. This whole story is going to have that theme, a theme of losing myself. I don’t bother any more. I was once a good man, by some metrics even great, but all that is lost now. I found a lovely woman, about my age, who taught me about the world and its wonders, it’s states and who I should avoid if I wanted to keep my head. I did grow quite fond of her in the short time we spoke, but it would also turn out to be the last time we would. I met two other people too, one cothier, who made me all my three sets of clothes, two when we met and another when we later reunited in Vuillermoz. The last person I met was the most important one though, it was the one who called me to adventure, I thought, but would ultimately call me out of it. He was an 11 year old boy in armour, asking me to join his army. I naturally did, and it started my journey to where I am today. I do wonder if his call was a blessing or a curse. My life would not have been in the state it is now if it was not for him, yet it is perfectly possible that I would have died on the side of some winter road if he hadn’t given me work and opportunity, I was a soldier for a few years, narrowly avoiding death once, leaving a scar on my throat that is clearly visible to this day.

   After serving the army the lord of my vassal lordship made an announcement that he was looking for a marshal. I thought I would do a good job as my studies of wars had given me a theoretical understanding for how war is to be fought. But theory is nothing like practice, and I would turn out to be a terrible marshal. Nevertheless it gave me a glimpse into the world of politics, it sucked me in like a drug and wouldn’t let me go, for I would not let myself lose the position that I had gotten. I served as marshal for a few years in Westmark, as it was called, then I got recruited by Courland, as Westmark collapsed. I had grand plans for what I should do as marshal, as I did with everything, but when the opportunity arose to become the lord justiciar instead I took it. It did hurt me to have to give up my plans, the reason I did it was that I saw that I did not make a good marshal and would do better in justice.

   I was better in justice, that was true, as I had the efficiency and discipline that would be expected of a justiciar, but I wasn’t skilled at engaging with people, and as the example for law and order doing that is pretty important. I did a pretty bad job with my first trail, of Geneve Merentell, accused by the then queen of Courland of attempted murder. There wasn’t any evidence whatsoever, so I gave the verdict not guilty, but I hardly gave anything for the people to learn from, which looking back I could have done a lot better. 

   Then came the most miserable attempt at a cue I have experienced. As a certain Gustavo Staunton, if I recall his name correctly, managed to get himself onto the throne by trickery, which was somewhat impressive, but hardly a masterpiece, and then managed to lose the loyalty of the entire city. He was captured and executed as soon as everything got back to order. The civil war had harmed Courland though, and along with bad leadership the city ended up in an almost unrecoverable economic position. A man named Agni Gent took unofficial leadership, and managed to almost recover the economy, but in the end some more internal conflict ended his attempt.

   I then looked for a new place to go, as the crumbling walls of Courland, as much as I love the nation, were not meant to stand. I found king Harald in Vullermoz. In fact, the clothier I had met on the first week of leaving my home was the one who told me about the open position. I became the speaker, a title who’s official job was to orginize the council, but when I was there in practice was orginize and plan everything. I was in essence doing the domestic policy that is usually the job of the king. Here I did a better job than I ever did in Courland, as I hard learnt from my mistakes there and new how to actually run an economy, and my efforts did have some fruit, but when I realised what it was the city needed it was already too late, and though the walls would never crumble like in Courland, as long as I was there, the holy city would not ever reach the glory that it perhaps deserved. 

   But a politician can’t go forever without making mistakes. I had made friends with people in other nations, and due to a special situation I ended up making a terrible mistake and hurting a dear friend so badly that we still do not talk, though it has been more than ten years since it happened. I believe he has forgiven me by now, so it is only up to me to forgive myself before I can truly be clear of it.

   I was dearly hurt by what I had done, and so I pulled back into my chambers in Vuillermoz, living on wine and bread, mostly the former, paying much of the small fortune I had built up over the years to feed the vice. 

   I guess politics wasn’t my fall from grace, it wasn’t leaving the life as an adventurer that cause me to lost my grip of the world. It was one mistake. Everyone makes mistakes. I guess it’s fine. Dear Arathor Kelpie, Captain and Marshal of Westmark, Lord Marshal and Justiciar of Courland, Lord Speaker of Vuillermoz, I forgive you. It’s okay. Everyone makes mistakes, you were just unlucky yours was so bad. 

 

Arathor Kelpie addressed to Johan Vuiller