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Dear Mother,
Apologies for not writing sooner, as I’m sure you can imagine I was very surprised to receive your letter. Pleasantly surprised. More than pleasantly surprised.
I was at a loss for what to write, but I had some good advice from someone very dear to me and I am going to follow it.
First, the castle.
The castle isn’t in the same place you might remember it being. It moved to the land beside the Belmont hold. It’s stuck (maybe don’t tell father that), the mechanism was broken, melted actually. Again, perhaps break that to father gently. Oh, also the tower exploded.
The Belmont hold, like the castle, is an amazing place. Full of resources that I became the de facto guardian of. But I found guardianship didn’t suit me terribly well. It was lonesome. Fortunately, I have managed, with the help of dear friends, to rectify that. The castle now officially sits in the centre of a village. Not because we moved the castle, rather we moved the village.
It’s a wonderful place. We’ve built a school, a small hospital of sorts. There’s lots of space, which is good because new residents arrive fairly often. People are traveling to come here, much like you did when you met father. People come here for access to the wealth of knowledge held in the castle and the hold. We share it with them and many of them stay here and help us build a better home.
I’m confident that you would like what we have built. We’re making the world better, a person at a time.
I think my favourite thing about the village is when people leave. Odd as that may sound. People come, they learn and some of them leave. I like to think that when they do; they spread what they have learned.
I realize I keep saying we I am referring to Greta, Sypha, Trevor and their baby. Greta was the village head woman of Dynesti, a small cluster of houses not too far from where the castle ended up. She called out to me when Dynesti was in a spot of bother and we brought her people here and started the new village. I should also say that Greta and I are very close.
Sypha Belnades is a speaker magician, a wonderful woman, brilliant and ferocious. She is the wife of Trevor Belmont (perhaps don’t tell father about them just yet, or if you do, then maybe do so gently) Trevor was the last descendant of the Belmont line. He’s a drunk and has terrible manners. I think he might be my best friend, which makes me deeply unhappy. Sypha and Trevor have a daughter. She cries all the time; I think it’s because she knows who her father is and is deeply depressed about this.
I think that’s probably quite enough to be putting on you for one letter. I hope you will write back soon.
All my love
Adrian.
Dearest Adrian
I was thrilled when I received your letter. I’ve read it and re-read it so many times that the ink has faded.
I hardly know where to begin.
I’m so proud of you. I cannot express in words the pride I feel hearing about what you’ve accomplished. You’ve built a life for yourself, as your own person, and you’re using everything you have to make life better for the people around you.
I can’t say how proud I am.
Your father is very proud to. The day after your letter arrived, I heard him boasting in the local pub about what you’re doing. I think he’s grown even taller with pride.
The village sounds lovely. You’ll have to tell me what you named it.
Greta is a lovely name. I want you to tell me more about her. A village head woman, she must be wise and compassionate, but also daring to have moved her entire village to the castle. Either that or desperate. But I think she was wise, or else she would not have remained when the danger passed.
It is past, hasn’t it?
I was gentle when I told your father about the castle. He was shocked, to put it mildly. I was expecting him to be irritated however, but he surprised me and became introspective. He did flinch at the names of your companions. I didn’t ask questions. I am aware of the Belmont and Tepes family history, of course.
Events here are rather dull, I must admit. Your father has encouraged me to engage more with the people here, but the language is difficult, though I am trying to make myself useful. I must confess I am homesick. England is a wonderful place, but it’s not home.
All my love
Mother
Dear mother
Greta has asked me to tell you she would love to meet you. She has heard much about you. Sypha has also asked that I convey her desire to meet you as well.
It troubles me to hear that you are homesick.
Would you like to visit? I’m sure father could manage it. Just ask him not to arrive as a pillar of flame in the village square. That would be problematic.
All my love
Adrian
Son
Your mother showed me your last letter.
I did not want to return without first at least attempting to speak with you, but now that I am writing, I find myself at a loss as to what I could possibly say to you.
I am aware of how badly I failed you. So much so that an apology feels trite in the face of it all.
I am not one for regrets, and I do not regret what I attempted to do to humanity. My opinions on them as a whole have not changed. But I regret failing you. I forced you to act outside of your nature and then I abandoned you. I am loath to think of the harm that I caused to you and am unreservedly relieved to see that the harm was not fatal, literally and metaphorically.
But regardless of your ability to survive me, I want you to know that I regret deeply and unreservedly.
I think I always will.
But that does not mean I am thrilled to see that you have placed my castle next to the Belmont hold, of all places. I am also irritated that you destroyed the transport mechanism. I am also curious how you exploded a tower. Do try not to ruin it further before we can arrive.
Your mother has expressed a deep desire to return home, and I cannot deny her. I will return with her and I will repair my home. You are grounded, and you will be required to spend time each day assisting in the repair until the damage is resolved. I hope that is understood.
Also, it is still my castle. I will arrive in flame if I choose. Though, as it is your village, I will respect your request.
That was a joke.
We will arrive in three days.
Father
P.S: I found a book I think you will like. I will bring it with us.