I’m not sure when, or even if, I’ll ever have a chance to send you this letter. I hope you are well and that the monastery is safe. It’s funny – I spent so long wanting to travel the world and visit all the places that the caravans and traders spoke of. I’ve seen elven cities, disappearing towns, magic temples, Dragonborn sages, Eladrin magic…even now we’re travelling into these breathtaking (if dangerous) mountains and the Dwarven kingdoms.
But for all that, I wish I could wake up tomorrow and see my parents’ farm, or walk through the market after our morning devotions. I suppose I’m learning that sometimes having a thing isn’t as good as wanting, after all.
I’ve also learned that being a warrior – a protector, like you, isn’t a simple or clear thing. I’ve seen some truly wondrous things – but I’ve also seen some terrible, sickening things.
My anger at those who deliberately attack the helpless and weak burns at me – sometimes I feel like it could spiral out of control.
I have tried to offer succor and help to those I can, to make things right. I’ve tried to push the anger away, and concentrate on doing what is just. But I’ve learned that can be so much harder than I thought when I was growing up.
I want to live up to your example, Father. I will continue to strike to do so.