Now, see, I’ve only just started this letter and already I want to start over. It feels presumptuous to call you mine, doesn’t it? I mean, I have come to think of myself as yours, even though I can’t seem to find the words to tell you. And, yes, it makes no sense that someone who never shuts up can’t tell a girl how she feels, not really, but, here we are. (I can tell Primara, though. A cursed unicorn statue? Yeah, her I can tell.) I guess this letter counts as telling you? Maybe it’ll be easier for me to say it out loud now that you already know it’s true. Or maybe not? Maybe I’ll live long enough to find out. I swear, I don’t even make sense to myself north of half the time.
By the time you read this, I’ll be gone. Now that we have this stone, and the keys, and the location of the vault, we’re going to go find it. Our plan is to simply give the stone to the dragon guarding it, so that none of these other jerks who are looking for the vault will be able to get it. It’s not much of a plan, I admit – it’s barely even an idea – but it’s all we’ve got, and if we spend any longer trying to top it, someone will find us, and it’s bad enough that Sam is gone. I would rather lead this danger away from our threshold, and let you curse my name for the leaving, than let it find you. I can’t even tell you where the vault is, because I’d hate for someone to come and take that knowledge from you.
And so, while everyone else sleeps, I write, and think of you. Some part of me fears that I will never see you again, but I know that part is wrong. I will come home to you. And who knows? Maybe I’ll feel truly worthy of you then.
You know, when I first came to this city, notions of worthiness gnawed on me like ghouls on bones. The truth is that I didn’t leave the Feywild as much as I was cast out of it. My mothers never approved of my bargain with my Lady of Mirrors – never understood it. I spent all my days hungering for glory, for a chance to prove to them (ALL of them!) that I deserved to be called a Shadowinter, even though my road to power split from theirs. And, while I can’t deny I would still love to show them how wrong they were, the chance to show you what a great hero I can be appeals to me far more.
I’m going to go talk to a dragon! Again! I hope it’ll listen to us. I hope that Manshoon and all these others who want the vault cry their eyes out when they can’t get in. I hope I live to tell you all about it.
The dawn is coming, and I can tarry no longer. Should we fail, try to remember me in better days, and know that some called me mad, but I was only ever, truly, mad about you.