Letters to passion

[Love]

As the evening faded from a relatively calm and faithful night, a cloaked woman plastered letters on town boards throughout Esshar. The paper they were written on was crinkled and worn, as if older than they actually were. Each one is written in an trained yet erratic cursive, though lacking any formatting of a formal letter. They are all directly addressed to individuals, despite their mass distribution, a heart of messy, splattered ink in the bottom right corner.

All recipients are attendees at Starfall.

Aquila Yakim

You’re adorable, you know? The way you quip at others and hold your heart so close.

Can I have a look?

I won’t hurt you. I would never hurt you. People as pretty as you are so fragile.

Have you ever braided your hair?

You’d look so cute with your hair done and me at your side.

Together we can change how we feel. We can bridge the gap to happiness.

Just take my hand, Aquila. I’ll take care of you.

We will take care of you.

Callahan Gardios

Stoic. Virtuous. Handsome.

Those are words that come to mind.

So close to the stars. Yet a minor noble to giants.

Why don’t you venture some?

We could hold hands and look at the sky.

You could be so much more.

Don’t be scared, Callahan. I’ll guide you.

There’s bliss between those stars.

Don’t you want a taste?

Erika Soleis

So neat.

Do you ever grow tired, tending to your beauty?

Eyes like honey poured from the sun.

Delicate as the cosmos' grip on humanity.

Traitor. Rogue. Low blood.

You’ve heard them. We all have.

Why do you bend to those who hate you?

Why serve a city which spits on your family’s honor?

They don’t value you like I do.

They don’t see the passion waiting to be let out.

We can be so close, Erika.

All you have to do is ask.

Isebrand Duran

How fierce you are, mighty Cerberus.

So determined yet so directionless.

A dog on a leash.

There’s so much more for you waiting.

Domination. Conquest. Power.

What does it mean to you, to forge your own way?

Is it enough to be respected?

You feel that craving in you. That urge for a fight.

The urge for tyranny.

We can rule together, dear Isebrand.

Take what’s yours.

Sabine Michaelis

Your voice is so pretty.

How long have you practiced?

Do you ever feel that mask crack?

So very nice, yet without praise.

So very pretty, yet without validation.

Your songs would be so much more beautiful in the dark.

The truth you could speak, after stepping into the tide.

They don’t hear you.

Play louder.

Soon they’ll all hear your songs, sweet Sabine.

I’ll lift you to your pedestal.

The reason and suspect in the occurrence remains unknown.