A few days later, after the recent events began fading away, and their new, blessed life gained a semblance of normalcy as they both settled into what could be considered a routine, Niala sat down at the kitchen table, her father's second letter in hand.

  My dear beloved Niala,

  The shame of your departure is all mine. I have failed you, my precious daughter, where it counted the most. I sought to pave your future with a golden path, to ensure you had all the riches you could ask for, for your life to be one of luxury and happiness.

  On all accounts, I was a fool.

  Upon noticing your absence, and in the weeks that followed, panic and desperation overtook my senses. I spent a fortune attempting to track you down, to bring you back, but you always remained one step ahead of my hired help. I became irate and wrathful.

  I began to question what could drive you to leave. I, Cornelius the All Brew, was giving you everything I never had. The empire that I had built with my hands and your mother's support, rising up on my skills and dedication to the craft to attain the greatest heights of alchemy, recognized throughout the kingdom and abroad.

  All of this, what I believed to be my greatest treasure, I was gifting to you, my eldest child.

  And you ran away from it all. I couldn't understand, and I freely admit that I silently cursed you for the fiery pit you left me in, unbalanced and adrift.

  All of it lies that I covered myself with, for the truth was too painful to accept.

  Niala, my daughter, please send your thanks to your sister Angeline. She battered down my door one night and gave me the scolding of a thousand years. She tore away at my lies and left me exposed to the stinging reality.

  I did not sleep that night.

  At first, I raged at your sister, how had she dared accuse me of being a failed father, with all I had done for you both.

  As that fire subsided, I began to understand what she had meant. I had imposed upon you my dream, my hopes, my desires.

  I had thought these to be your own. They were not. I had listened to you, but I had never heard you, never distanced myself from my own, so that I could truly hear your voice, your words.

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

  I had failed you.

  All of the times you had sought me out, to confide in me your fears and unease, to hint at what it was you truly desired, yet never so overtly as to oppose me, wishing to be the dutiful daughter you sought to be.

  I cried the rest of the night, wishing I could hold you close and tell you just how terribly, horribly, and incredibly sorry I was. That I would be a better father, that I would do all I could to give you your life, your happiness, your own path.

  But you were not there. All I had was my shattered self and your fading memory.

  For the next season, I remained cloistered. The weight of my failure was a chain that allowed no freedom. Until your lovely sister barged into my room once more and told me to stop moping and get on with my life.

  So much like your mother.

  On I went, praying each night that you were still alive and well, and swearing each morning that if I ever heard back from you, I would reveal all to you and seek your forgiveness.

  And then, two years later, your letter for help reached me.

  My heart stopped beating when I read your name upon it. It sprang back to life when I read your address to me: Dear father.

  You still cared for me. You had not forsaken me! And I then read of your self-afflicted shame, and I cursed myself a thousand times over for putting you in a situation where you would feel as such.

  Niala, my most precious of treasures, you have nothing to be ashamed of, nothing to reproach yourself, you have not a single drop of guilt to your name. It is mine to bear alone.

  Please, find happiness wherever you are. If you require any further help, remember that it is but a letter away. Anything you ask for, I will move earth and skies to get to you.

  And if one day you find it in yourself to forgive your fool of a father, please, visit us. It is my only wish to be able to hold you in my arms once more.

  Your far-away but ever-loving dunce of a father,

  Cornelius the All Brew.

  P.S.

  I have paid for and ordered a dedicated messenger Avilem. It will be delivered to your location by the Free Courier network, and is mana-locked to you.

  P.P.S.

  Rest assured, I have not, and will not, pressure the Free Couriers into revealing where your letter originated from. Wherever you are, be safe.

  David approached the kitchen, investigating the sobs he heard from within, and found Niala, poring over a letter, her eyes profusely leaking tears, slowly soaking the paper, as she forced herself to finish reading it.

  He put a hand on her shoulder and squeezed, giving her the courage to reach the end, before she bolted from her chair and flung herself into his arms.

  He held her tight, giving her a safe and loving embrace, within which she shed years of pain and shame.

  Half a bell later, with nothing left to cry, within her lover's arms, inside her new home, in a town at the edge of the world, living in a dream they had built together, she felt the lightest and happiest she ever had.