The Letter I Received from Raquel Moonclaw, Through Dirk Jaxwulf

  Tiberius,

  I’m not entirely sure why I’m writing this letter. You’ve been on my mind from time to time over the last months. I’ve wanted to reach out to you since our confrontation with Danefer. I know I played that off as something casual, something less than what it was. The truth is, that was a moment of deep meaning for me. I had an impulse to say more to you that day. I’ve had that impulse many times since. But I’ve resisted. I don’t know why I’ve resisted. I’m not entirely sure why I feel an urge to make contact with you. Forgive me, but I think this letter might be my chance to figure that out for myself. I mightn’t even send this to you. I might just use it as an exercise for myself.

  The day I saw you and the others watching me during the Falling, that made up my mind. I space out when I’m using the Footfield in the open like that. I lose myself to speed, the thrill of moving like that. I could kick myself for the countless times I’ve exposed myself to danger in moments like that. I did notice you bastards eventually, but by the time I saw you, I knew you guys could easily have moved around and cut me off. I was at your mercy. You don’t need to tell me that the others wanted to take me down, kill me, and take the Flows I was carrying. In fact, I hardly blame them. It’s the business we’re in. They were right to want to do it. They owed that to their city. If anything, it was you that was wrong to intervene. Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad that you did.

  How do I know that you were the one who stopped them? I guess I don’t—except that it was totally irresponsible to let a treasure like that slip through your fingers. None of the others could have taken that option. It had to be you. And I can’t help but feel like it means something that you did that.

  I’ve been thinking about you since the thing with Danefer. If I’m telling the truth, I’ve been thinking about you since I met you the first time. Actually, if I’m really telling the truth, I’ve been thinking about you since before that. I’ve been thinking about you since I first heard about you during your Choosing.

  I was like you. In more ways than you might expect.

  I’m not noble-born. I’m the first of House Moonclaw, and I might be the last.

  I know we’re not the same either. You were brought up with more wealth and servants than the average lord’s son could dream about. But you weren’t born with their blood. Like me, you had to go into the Choosing and have them all look down their noses at you. You had to suffer the same insufferable bullshit I had to. The judgment, the sense that you were something lesser just because your dad wasn’t born in a castle. I went through all of that as well. To be honest, I’m still going through it today.

  I was brought up in an orphanage. I never knew my mum or dad. The place was run by a bunch of religious freaks called the Sisters of the Moon. Maybe I shouldn’t call them freaks. There were plenty of them that were nice. There were plenty of them that were rotten as well. But it wasn’t as bad as a lot of kids have it early in life. One thing that was noticeable—the place was always plagued with the Green Men. They were always there, for as long as I can remember. I think they were patrons of the sisters. The Green Men would bring food and coin to the orphanage. They’d also spend time with us. That wasn’t always so great. They didn’t do anything, not the way you might imagine a bunch of brutes might in a home full of vulnerable young girls. At least, I don’t think they did. Not to me, anyway. But it was strange the way they’d stop and play games with some of us. I was one of the ones they’d stop and play games with. When I was little, I loved it. The orphanage was so boring. It was fun, if a little scary, to have a stranger to play games with.

  The author's tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

  I don’t know what I’m saying. I’m rambling. I’m twice as unlikely to send this letter now. I might as well keep writing, though. There’s some kind of therapy in the writing of this.

  I don’t know how the sisters managed it, but somehow I wound up in the Choosing in Minneapolis. It’s not as hard as the Choosing in Boston. It’s bigger. It’s not like the madness they had in Houston, but it’s something like that. In the North, everything is bigger and more brutal. It’s still not easy to enter the Choosing. They don’t have noble houses the way you have them. But there are still families with histories and reputations. If you’re not part of one of those families, then what you have is dirt.

  I grew fast when I won the suit. Not like you, but not that far off. I’ve gained levels since the last time you used Assess on me. I’m still growing nearly as fast as I did in my first seasons.

  I don’t know why I think you’re someone I should talk to. But I have that strong sense I get sometimes that you are.

  I’m lonely. My team doesn’t accept me. I think sometimes that they resent me, that I’ve taken a spot that could have been occupied by one of the proud families. I meet Griidlords from other lands all the time. I always feel the same. I don’t know how to talk to them, and I always feel like they’re judging me, like I’m not measuring up.

  I barely even spoke to you. But from the moment I met you, I felt there was something there. Something that didn’t have the same walls around it that I have with the others. It was like you saw me as a person. I didn’t feel like you trusted me—even after fighting at your side against Danefer, I didn’t feel like you trusted me. But I did feel like you saw me. I felt like a person when I was with you. I felt like a fully-fledged human being.

  Oh, Oracle’s sake, why am I even writing this rambling mess? I’m never going to send it to anyone. This is going straight to the fireplace when I finish it.

  I want a friend. I want a conversation. I know we can’t be friends—not really. The day might come when we’ll be compelled to try and kill each other. If the stories are true about your progression, then you’ll be the one killing me. But, sad as that may be, we could still have some conversations between then and now. I’d give anything to be in a conversation where I’m just seen—the way you seemed to see me.

  We don’t have a key in Minneapolis. I know you do. It is strange to say that I’m rooting for you. I don’t give a damn one way or another how any other city fares with the Locked Orbs, but I find myself hoping that you have success. You’ve already had such a legend-inspiring season. It should be capped by winning at least one Locked Orb. If you don’t get further than that, if you don’t get close to the Griid-Crown, then so what? That’s a crazy dream anyway. But I’ll be listening for news when the next round starts. I want to see you win. I’m embarrassed to say that.

  When it’s all over, I’m going to reach out to you. You won’t get to read this letter. This letter is condemned to the fire that’s burning alongside me as I write it. But I will definitely reach out to you when this is done. It’s your first season, you’ve gone from Choosing to Falling, it must all seem so mad to you. I remember what it was like. But when this is done, there’ll be time. You’ll be back to the droning boredom of ferrying trains across the land. One day you’ll lead a train, and I’ll lead a train, and those trains will stop at the same city on the same night or day. I’d down cups with you that day if you’d have me.

  Shit, I feel better now. I have this monstrous urge to put this letter in an envelope and pass it on to you. But it’s been such a ramble. I haven’t really taken account of the things I’ve said. I don’t really know what it means. I do know I feel a lot better having written it. I know what I want now, and I didn’t know that when I wrote it.

  No. This is definitely going in the fire now.

  Thanks for reading, or not reading as the case may be,

  Racquel

  Godspawn Ascendant [LitRPG, Epic Progression Fantasy] | Royal Road is really well written and totally epic. I'd urge anyone who likes Griidlords (which hopefully is half true if you got this far) to check it out.