A Disappearance

[Travisty 1020]

 

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THE NIGHT WAS WARM,

Heavy with the scent of flowers and faint sweetness of pastries left from the day’s bustle. A gentle breeze drifted through the square, lifting stray leaves along the ground. Lotharia’s streets lay still with the faint glow of lanterns. The square had fallen silent save for the steady flow of water from the fountain. The Baroness hummed softly to herself, a tune faint and fractured, barely audible over the steady flow of water in the Duchy’s aqueducts. Her steps were measured, almost graceful, yet her eyes wandered to the flickering shadows in the fountain’s waters, reflecting the glimmering lantern light. The square was deserted. The taverns’ laughter and the merchants’ farewells had faded hours before. Even the wind seemed to pause, carrying only the soft rustle of leaves and the distant drip of water. She crossed the square, each step echoing faintly against the ground.

 

And then, something shifted.

 

A clatter of metal, a muffled thud, the strangled gasp of someone caught off guard. Her lantern fell, glass shattering on the stone, flame sputtering out as shadows swallowed it. A few petals and leaves scattered, drifting over the place where she had stood.

 

By dawn, the area around the fountain bore the aftermath. Torn pieces of silk fabric lay bloodstained. A hair clip– delicate, cracked– rested a few feet away, and splotches of blood were traced across the stone. Drag marks stretched from the fountain toward the square but seemed to stop abruptly after a few paces. There had been no witnesses. No one had seen her taken, and no one had been seen leaving. The warm morning light returned to the vassal, and the fountain continued to flow undisturbed. 

 

 

The Baroness of Thessaros was gone.

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Among the belongings she left behind within her residence were a small collection of letters among unfinished documents:

 

TO MY PRIDE AND JOY HOMURA.

Spoiler

Even the fiercest tiger moves silently through the forest, unseen yet aware of every shadow. Your path will be watched by many, but do not fear, for the true strength lies in knowing when to move and when to wait. I think of you often, or your choices, your courage, and the path you are carving for yourself, as I have chosen one for myself to tread where others may not follow. There are things I could tell you, and things you must discover for yourself. Trust the rhythm of your own heart, as your path will be watched by many. But do not fear, for the true strength lies in knowing when to move and when to wait. Know the forest bends to those who respect its rules, and so too will the world bend for you if you continue to walk with patience and purpose.

 

TO MY BLOSSOM MIYU,

Spoiler

The crane lifts itself above the waters, silent and patient, observing every ripple. You are learning to fly, tracing the currents I once traced. If you ever notice a shadow moving with grace where none should be, or a single feather drifting in an unexpected place, let it remind you that careful paths are never truly empty. Walk softly but know you are watched with pride. And remember the kitchen, my blossom, the bakery is yours to tend for during the years I’ve raised you; you have learned my recipes well. I wish for the business to continue as you and your sisters see fit; you all have always had a keen eye. Continue the work and let it flourish like the gardens you walk past; life persists where it is nurtured.

 

TO MY DARLING ANDREA, 

Spoiler

The lilies open quietly, unbent by wind or rain. Beauty and strength can flourish in places that seem ordinary, and care often blooms in silence. Notice the small signs of growth around you, flowers that appear where none were planted, life persisting quietly. They are reminders that effort and care endure even when unseen. While your sisters may no longer be family by name, they are still blood, take comfort in one another, and continue to support each other. Watch over them as they shall watch over you. I trust you to guide your father’s house forward with wisdom in your pursuits. Tend to what remains with patience, and the house will thrive.

 

Should, at the time of receiving this letter, my plans for a Women’s Society have not come to fruition, perhaps such a project may become your own to undertake. I know you, with your elegance and grace, can bring people together. Allow your abilities to take root, let them bloom slowly, carefully, as the strongest gardens do.

 

 

TO MY DEAREST, ESFIR

Spoiler

I have thought often of you, of the storms you have endured, and of the courage that has carried you through them. Loss has touched you deeply, yet you move forward with a grace few could claim. Even in moments that seem empty, the garden continues, tending itself in ways that ask nothing and give everything. Notice the small details in the world around you, petals drifting on the breeze, the soft sweep of a crane’s wings across the sky, the way light falls across a path you thought familiar. Sometimes, the smallest things remind us of resilience, of care, of what remains unbroken.

 

Regardless of the situation that may surround the receiving of this letter, irrespective of whether or not we may be separated by circumstance during that time, the threads of those who care are never truly broken. Follow the gentle rhythm of the world, Esfir, and trust in the quiet signals that the earth itself provides. One day, the weight will lift, and the moment of peace you so deserve will come. Perhaps a day filled with light, with laughter, and with the calm that has eluded you.

 

 

 

 

[Cheese 8883]

Esfir, when she received her letter, held it close to her chest. Her thumbs gently caressed the paper, and a shaky inhale that was meant to steady herself only brought her closer to tears.

 

“Sweet, lovely Miyako…” She murmured in remembrance of one of her dearest friends, “Oh, how Godan must have loved you to call you back so soon, and what tragedy that you were taken in such a cruel way.” Tears were quick to spill from her eyes, causing the ink of the note from her dearest, Miyako, to run.

[sona 108]

Homura, upon reading the letter, wailed. That was her beloved mother - always there for her, doing her best to support her, and now she was... gone. 

She tightly gripped the letter. She was the first to see the crime scene. To see the blood, the hair, everything. She had tried not to cry during the investigation, despite the pure stress of it. The explanations during and afterwards were numbing, exhausting. When she dug around in the house, only to find letters, surrounded by her family... It was all too much. Now, Homura just had the letter to hold onto.