Calliope Letter Eight
Letter to Duskridden from her life partner, Calliope
My beautiful little vixen,
Mere words cannot give justice to the emptiness, the vapid hole within my ever-longing heart, without you near. It has been impossibly lonely, these terrible months that you, my most precious and dearest love, have been away, my arms bereft of your sweet and gentle presence.
I am blessed with the receipt of your most eloquent and gripping letters. I cringe at the description of your fantastical exploits, and openly weep when I read your correspondences, for my heart feels as though it shall burst from my bosom whenever you write of the dangers you face on a daily basis. In fact, whenever I see the winged boot of the Messengers, tears of despair mingled with joy spring into the channels of my eyes, creeping down my cheeks, no matter how I bolster my resolve. I tell myself, to little avail, that you shall soon be returned into my embrace.
This, my dearest niggle-noogie, is the eighth letter I have penned in response to your request regarding my whereabouts, and I have not received confirmation that any have found their way into your oh-so-talented hands. May I openly declare that I miss your fingers and their tender caresses? I can only await your next missive, letting me know once again your continuing safe travels and word that we indeed shall be together again before another fortnight has crept past, that we shall endure until once again blissfully reunited.
As I have written seven times past, I am spending the entirety of the month of Kor at the summer faire for the Festival of the Muses, in Cartenden. I shall linger here for the turn of Faro, hoping you and you heroic comrades arrive by then. Oh my tiny one, it would be majestic of you if you were able to make it for the festival. I am performing my Wheel Saga for Duke Sedherick, and The Fabulous Jorengen, Bard of Wariay will be joining me for a command performance of The Lucky Dragon cycle. I am quite the excited woman, and you would be proud of me. By this time next year, I anticipate a patronage from one of the noble houses. Isn’t that exciting? Just imagine, my Dusky flower, when you return from your little quest, we shall dine with dukes and sleep, not to mention what else, under castle roofs. My what a life I shall have, with you at my side, of course. It shall be paradise, living in the lap of luxury and performing for audiences who truly appreciate the elegance of refined performance. No more endless droning choruses of “The Bottom of her Cask” or “Into the Hayloft with You, Dear Molly”!
I am setting out today for the faire, I have arranged for all letters to be forwarded there. I anticipate it will be yet another fortnight at the very least before any of your letters catch up with me. Why, oh why my little lover, have you not written that my letters (did I mention seven prior to this one) have been lovingly received? No matter, it is likely those Messengers. It is well known they rifle through the papers, selling secrets on the black market. It’s quite a fine thing, I tell you, and I am gloriously thankful to be an innocent who has no illicitnesses to keep secret.
My love for you never falters,
Calliope Silversong of Longfellow Downs, Troubador of the Merrowmarches.