It would seem that the brothers, through entirely different methods, had stumbled onto a portion of the truth of the secret island. One had found the means by which what came to be known as Midlanders came to the island, many moons ago. The other had tapped into a power most prodigious, even if he cannot use it consciously.
Still, that left him with another letter to write, and one of the most difficult. He'd call for a Postmoogle, telling him of his progress with the unnamed package and just how far removed from the objective of package delivery he now was. In addition, he'd have this letter for him, a dangerous journey off Eorzea that they undertook for him, in exchange for some of the tougher letters delivered. After all, no one wants their pom chomped.
He re-read the letter, to ensure it was as understandable as possible.
That seems to be in order. With a friendly "Kupo!", the postmoogle went on its way with the sealed letter.
Still, that left him with another letter to write, and one of the most difficult. He'd call for a Postmoogle, telling him of his progress with the unnamed package and just how far removed from the objective of package delivery he now was. In addition, he'd have this letter for him, a dangerous journey off Eorzea that they undertook for him, in exchange for some of the tougher letters delivered. After all, no one wants their pom chomped.
He re-read the letter, to ensure it was as understandable as possible.
Letter Wrote:Dear Brother,
How are you? It has been a long time since we've written each other. Your responsibilities on the town council must be exhausting in addition to the harvest, and soon the woodcutting. Is everything all right? Has Mother's heart recovered from Father's passing?
More importantly... how goes the occupation?
The news I bring forth are not good, Brother. It seems that the Garleans are on the warpath - Chances are they will conscript our people to fight for them, or exterminate them if they refuse. I have spoken with a few individuals as to the way they operate, and all of them told me horrible stories. I know you have an important task to do, but I want to see you safe, Brother. However, we are both stubborn fools, so I know very well you will not abandon your mission.
This is also why I'm writing to you - Something strange is happening to me. You know of magic, right? The manipulation of personal or surrounding aether through the elements or geometry? Well, I cast a spell. You would think this a great day, right? Sadly, no - How it happened is essentially the most strange way. It seems I am capable of copying others' spells... without affecting the aether. We've seen my own get affected - and even its composition seems to have changed. It's also happened with blacksmithing a sword - something I never did, yet imitated to perfect accuracy.
As such, there's a few questions I need to ask you :
- Has there been an incident in the 10 years I was stuck in my room where such a thing may have happened?
- Has there been records of such an incident in the town archives?
- If so, could you give me the details of that incident?
- Have you discovered anything else of our people's past?
A swift response would be appreciated, but with the end of harvest dance, the festival and your own personal responsibilities I will understand if you cannot. Stay safe.
Your Brother,
Kellach
That seems to be in order. With a friendly "Kupo!", the postmoogle went on its way with the sealed letter.
