|Within the pages of Arics' Journal lay a weather-worn letter, age has worn some words however not the meaning as the parchment is kept at the front of the Journal.|
My dearest Aric,
The path slows, and I fear I am nearing to the end. Reason tells me you and I shall not see one another again, in this life, but I think I shall doubt reason for I know you and with you but anything on this Earth is possible.
But please come, make haste for I hear those outside who hold me here, they tell of my days growing shorter for their needs not being met to their desires. I fight with all strength to hold on but light fades by the moment of their mockery.
I do know you, I always have; rescuer, hero, love. I await seeing your gaze and the touch of your skin if not in this life, then any other, any other time or place, if such is possible and I do dare to dream it. I do.
I hear them coming now, another attempt that I will fight for you for I know you do for me to find here, to save me as you have countless times. Know I am always yours and always will be.
Should we not speak again, and my dark fears turn truth know I will hold but a flicker of light always and that, shall be the thought of your name.
Love, always.
Lucia.
