Anhil of Gent sat at his study, hurrying through his work so that he could read a letter which held a place of honour at his desk: letter from his brother, Dernhil. Finally, thrashing all the completed work aside, Anhil settled by his window and began to read the letter and memories came flashing back to him, as they always did when he read his letters. Memories of them playing as children, studying together, with Dernhil more than often helping him... Dernhil leaving Anhil for his studies... And many more. So finally he's got a love interest, Anhil smirked in his mind. He'd always thought his brother to be too pious for allowing himself such liberties, although that was a little far from the truth. Even though, it hadn't worked out well, Anhil thought a bit ruefully. Surprisingly, Dernhil's letter made Anhil almost cry out in sadness. It was too bleak, to abrupt, too morose. Which was why Anhil decided to go ahead, besides many other reasons, to begin writing a letter to his brother immediately.

To Dernhil, greetings!

I write to you my reply as soon as I've finished reading your letter, which frankly tells me too little about you. Is this an art of lore and poetry or composition, that the reader always has to be left ravenous after they've read whatever the author has to offer? For if it is so, then let me inform you that it is not a good technique. And I write you to convey my love and blessings of the Light to you. Our house is fine, brother: Gahal and Rena are all well, and the Circle too is well, if not taking it easy upon itself. The Darkness which you say of works a cold panic into our art too, and we can do all but remain in good touch with the rest of the Kingdoms. You, as well as any other politician in Edil-Amarandh, will know that Annar is a place which should nowadays be best refrained from.

I hope you enjoy your studies and life at Innail. And I'm pleased to inform you that your clever suggestions about the fair life at Innail always manages to irritate me. But I don't think you realise, brother, that it also manages to sadden me. It reminds me a lot about are childhood. And it also saddens me that you'll be prolonged by Pellinor lore. I was wondering a few days ago only when you'll be coming back to Gent... A powerful and well-read Bard like you could be a great asset to the Light and Gent at this time. For, as you'll know it better than anyone else, In the Darkness, the Light shines more brightly.

I'm very happy to hear the Cadvan is back in touch with you. The way you describe it, I could almost hear Cadvan chanting off his escapades to me! So from what I gather, you've had a truly blessed week, with what you tell me about the magnificent Osidh Annova offering you a tantalising morning greeting and an Innail Meet in full swing... I sigh, brother! I itch to bury myself in the famed dining halls of Innail, with platters after platters coming and engulfing me with their rich aromas. A Bard or so too went from here to the Meet. Perhaps if they got an opportunity to converse with you, I'll be satisfied that someone at least saw your famous face!

I wish you could've described your charming young lady to me. To think, that Dernhil of Gent is finally interested in a lady and has impressed her every so often with his, no doubt, wondrous poetry, is quite an achievement. For all those long years, you could've been desiring a much more unusual prospect. Ah! Forgive me brother, if I'm seeming impertinent. I didn't mean to offend you and certainly not disturb you. I can't pretend to understand your distress well, brother, but let me assure you one thing: You're a wonderful man - you're kind, your smart, you're well known, you can love well, you're handsome, you're truthful, you're a powerful Bard of the Light and you're sincere and any woman would be insane not to forgive you for even the gravest of the grave errors. Your Maerad has forgiven you, as you tell me; then trust me: she has forgiven you from the heart.

And by the way you narrate things, I think that she considered you something beyond a friend in the deepest recesses of herself, even if she doesn't know what a relation other than a parent or friend or sibling, perhaps, means. Don't despair! When time comes, you'll realise that both of you still are good friends. And good friends both of you shall make, for the mutual love of music among Bards and your thirsts to read and write. I would very much like to meet her, as well as Cadvan, of course. Perhaps they might stop by at Gent. And what better do you expect from Cadvan, eh? It shall be a thousand times more than a folly to even think for a mere second that Cadvan of Lirigon might want to avert his face from dangers and adventures and escapades and all.

So my dear brother, please do not let guilt and the suffocating advancement of the Dark take a toll on you. You always had the tendency to worry too much, and if it still exists, then I shall have to drag you back to Gent (something which I would dearly love to do) and waft the aroma of the sea to your nostrils and take you to scenic rides by the Ileadh Falls. I'm really glad for Silvia and Malgorn... the death of their daughter would haunt them till the end of their lives, and it is only for the best Cadvan and Maerad payed a visit at the perfect time; not only for them, but also for you and maybe, for the Light, seeing that it's Cadvan we're talking about here. Speaking of the Light, brother, are you all well? Please, do come back to Gent. And for now, keep undesirable thoughts away from your mind: they're as corrupting as the Dark.

Remember, you're well loved and respected. You've friends and you've our family here. You've your passion for lore and a healthy life. So if you really mean your final words in the letter, then it is time you came back and embraced me physically again... And remember, brother. I love you.

With love and blessings of the Light,
Your beloved brother,
Anhil.

Satisfied with his work, Anhil placed the letter on his study and went retired to his bed for the night.

The first thing which Anhil of Gent did in the morning was to almost run down to the doors of the Bardhouse in which he lived to see the Innail emissary arranging a few letters into his bag, his horse by him.

"Lernik of Innail!" He called out, waving his letter.

"Ah! A good morning to you, Anhil of Gent!" Lernik, the emissary greeted and smiled.

"And same to you. Now, lad, will you take - " Anhil was about to say that will Lernik take his letter to his brother Dernhil when suddenly, a dark object almost fell on Anhil's head. Anhil jumped back and then saw it was a raven. He bent down and began examining it and the raven positioned himself up on Anhil's arm and began speaking.

"Salutations to Anhil of Gent! I bring grievous news from lady Silvia of Innail, regarding your brother. Your honoured and cherished brother, Dernhil of Gent, has passed through the Gates to the realms of no-return..." The raven went on to illuminate clearly how Dernhil had died, but Anhil heard nothing more than a few sentences. He had gone deaf, and yet he could hear a ringing in his ears... his mouth was dry, and yet he was able to take a gulp after gulp... his eyes were as big as an almond, but they were becoming moist with ever passing fraction of a tiny second...

No, it can't be... his brother can't be... dead? No... his world can't shatter like that, for there was still Dernhil in it... No, it can't happen, he thought, as his letter fell pitifully from his hand to the gravel on the ground and Anhil couldn't summon up the energy to make his brain remember every detail thereafter. No...