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Days in the Valley of Storms passed peacefully, for the most part. The spirits had grown accustomed to Faust’s presence and he was welcomed into their domain, giving him a fair, lonesome space to call his home.
While that home was nothing special—Nothing more than a hut carefully assembled to bear the weather and wild creatures of the forest, not particularly comfortable or spacious—It was still where Faust has chosen to reside, and he had ample protection from outside forces and other unwanted creatures, some of which included humans.
Faust was glad he’d chosen here to hide. Escaping from Central was both a dream come true and a horrible turn of events, leaving behind his friends, family, and lover to seek a life in solitude, much different to the perfect life he lived in Central. Before, of course, the previously mentioned lover imprisoned him and burned him at the stake.
And while days were peaceful, yes, they had begun to blend together. Little happened where he lived, which was somewhat of a relief, but he still itched for something more. Much of his alone time was spent mulling over his lost life and his lost lover, never a moment passed where that bastard King didn’t occupy his thoughts.
Though, if a change of pace is what he craved— Today had certainly delivered it to him.
The normally pliant spirits stirred, starting from a buzz and developing into an uproar. Someone had breached the forest and disturbed its peace. Faust was aware of the neighboring wizards in the far distance of the woods, but those wizards knew better than to cross into their neighbor’s territory. There was only one offender the intruder could be.
It was a human.
Humans should know better than to traverse this far into the Valley of Storms. The spirits hissed and groaned, buds of flowers pulsing with an eerie white glow as nature tried to ward off the unwanted company. (Or perhaps, luring that human in further. If you trust us so much, why don’t you stay? Stay with us, human. We make great company. You make great prey. Wouldn’t you love to feast with us? )
If there was one thing Faust had learned throughout his years spent among humans, though, it would be humans don’t listen to what they’re told, especially by something so superficial as forest spirits. They only listened to their own selfish desires, or to whoever they thought would give them gain. There isn’t a single unselfish human , Faust thought bitterly.
The spirits vibrated in a trill as Faust stepped foot outside, murmuring with life at a familiar soul amongst the unfamiliar. Vines curled around Faust’s ankles as he walked, emitting a soft, persuasive message. They insisted: No, stay. Stay with us. We’ll take care of it.
Shaking the weeds off, he continued on, following the hum of the trees until he heard a troubled cry, paired with the rustle of leaves. A struggle. It was only a few feet ahead, shielded by thick shrubbery that took an effort for Faust’s weakened arms to push aside. He peeked through to a sight that would have made him laugh had it been a certain foolish human— Alas, it was not.
Instead, it was a different foolish human. One with brown hair instead of silver, hastily cut down to his nape and bangs unkempt enough to cover his eyes. He was adorned in white and blue, a golden crest embroidered onto his breast pocket. He was from Central country, Faust quickly concluded.
This Central human was caught in quite the predicament, arms bound to his side by thorny vines and being held taught in the air, high enough where his feet couldn’t reach the ground even if he pointed his toes. He wriggled in a feeble attempt to escape, an attempt so laughable that Faust could only frown.
Just when he was getting sick of watching and raised his arm to leave the human to become spirit food, he caught sight of Faust. The human whimpered to test his voice, then raised it in a cry. “Please help me! Please free me from these vines!”
Faust heard the human struggle once more, the forest growling at the fight, and then the human continued to plead with him. “You’re a wizard, right? That’s the only way you must be walking free! I beg of you, please free me!”
“So you know that the spirits hate humans? Why, then, did you travel this far into the woods?” Faust bit back, no attempt to hide the venom behind his words.
The human went silent, just as humans always did when they were made a fool. Just when he went to argue his case, the vines slipped up to his neck, coiling around his throat. He let out a cry of fear, fingers twitching and clenching into fists as he continued to fight against the life of the forest. “Help me! Help me, Sir Wizard!”
Faust stilled, head turned to the side as he thought. He hated humans. If he left the human here, he’d die a horrible, painful death, and go to feed the magic of the spirits— Isn’t that all he wanted? For those stupid, terrible humans to die off? This would be the perfect chance to take. Leave him here to die.
Though, a feeling gnawed at Faust’s heart. That human didn’t want to die . Did he truly deserve to die? Just for being human?
His fingers twitched against the leaves, head continuing to spin. He remembered a hope he used to live by. A hope that humans and wizards could coexist; that they could live side by side, hand in hand, without their differences looming over their heads. That hope had long been crushed, but a dream still resided in his chest. Would killing this human really help him in the long run?
Heaving a sigh, Faust shoved the bushes out of his way and stepped over the thick shrubbery, now fully in view of the human, and the human fully in view of him. He stared at Faust with desperate eyes, once more wiggling in vain to prove he truly needed his help.
Faust approached, tentatively at best, and then circled behind the human, the latter of which turned his head in an attempt to get a look at what the wizard was doing. “Sir Wizard? All I asked was that you free me. You’re not trying to kill me, right?”
His voice grew fearful, now struggling enough to swing the vines, nearly kicking Faust in his jaw amongst his scrap. Faust soured, all too suddenly reminded that humans would never trust wizards, no matter how much of a savior they acted.
Regardless, Faust continued to play the saint and grasped onto the vines behind the Human’s back, slipping his hand under the grip and feeling thorns prick his palm. With a steady voice, he muttered his incantation and felt flames drip from his fingertips, intertwining with the vines and searing them from within, slowly crumbling to ash until the human toppled to the ground at Faust’s feet.
Immediately the human scrambled to his feet, eyes blown wide at Faust like a deer caught in headlights. He glanced Faust up and down, a gesture rude enough to make the wizard scowl, then scrambled for something in his sack. It took him a few painstaking moments of Faust’s time to find what he was looking for, but when he finally did, the human had offered him a letter.
“This is for Faust Lavinia. Are you him?” The human asked.
Faust fixed a stare at the human, and shook his head, “No. I don’t know him.”
The human let out a frustrated huff, using his free hand to tear at his hair. He mumbled curses to himself, something about how he “Came all the way here,” and, “It was all for nothing.” Once more, Faust was reminded, humans only do things for their own selfish desires.
“Look, Sir Wizard, I traveled here by foot. I was sent by the King to find Faust Lavinia and deliver this letter to him. Surely you must know him, yes?” With all the human-like nature of a man, he insisted, urging the letter towards Faust.
“I don’t know him,” Faust maintained. He paused. “But I’ll take your letter.”
Before the human had the chance to shove the letter back into his sack, Faust grabbed it from his hands and tucked it in the waistband of his pants. Aghast, the human did nothing to fight back, holding his empty hand in front of his cluelessly. Faust’s face hardened, and he grabbed a hold of the human’s shoulders, turning him in the other direction.
“The exit is that way. Leave immediately.”
“Huh? Sir Wizard, first, let me give you my gratitude. You saved my life.” The human turned back towards Faust, grabbing hold of his hands and bowing his head. “I wish I could do more than thank you by word. Is there anything I can do for you?”
Faust shook his hands free, more forcefully turning the human back to the exit. “Leave. I’d like you to leave.”
Continuing to urge him forward, Faust was half ready to call the spirits back to toss the human away by his ankles when the human stumbled forward, out of the wizard’s reach. He turned his head over his shoulder, readjusting his collar, and he raised his voice for one last request. “Sir Wizard, if you do meet Faust Lavinia, please give that letter to him. That’s all I ask.”
Hurriedly, the human rushed through the bushes and out of Faust’s sight. Faust was relieved, so much so that he nearly forgot about the letter tucked into his belt until he returned back to his hut and it tumbled onto the floor when he brushed the dirt off his previously unstained, white shirt.
Faust gave it a sideways glance, a few moments of contemplation passing before he delicately picked the letter up and sat at his makeshift desk— Which was less a desk, and more a haphazardly balanced wooden blank atop a similarly haphazardly arranged log. Faust never was the best interior designer.
He brushed back his bangs and pushed on his glasses, conveniently placed at the side of his desk, and thumbed open the envelope with nimble movements, careful not to tear the paper. Inside was, just as he was told, a letter from the King. He pulled the paper out and unfolded it, flattening it on his desk with the heel of his hand. The handwriting was familiar; curvy and smooth, if a bit rushed, fit for a king.
Faust’s eyes blurred, but after a moment he began to read.
‘To: Faust,
I hope this letter finds you well, if it finds you at all. I have sent a copy to every corner of the world in order to find you, and I’m sure that you will come across at least one of them. I hope you will, at least.
I won’t broach the topic of what happened at Central just yet, I do not wish to hurt you more than I already have— I know the damage I have caused is irreversible and irredeemable. Yet, I still hope that you are happy to hear from me, as I would be overjoyed to hear back from you.
If you do receive my letter and anything following, I can pretend they are our daily correspondence, so I’ll ask now... have you eaten yet? Did you sleep well? If you need anything, you need only ask. I am but a letter away.
I did not plan this well enough, as I’m almost out of space to write. I’ve started this letter a thousand times, and now that I can finally pour words into the page, I cannot say as much as I want to. So, I shall wait for your arrival back at central for us to talk properly.
... Though, even if I do not hear from you until the day I die, I pray that my love will transcend death and reach you.
Love,
Alec.’
Faust exhaled through his nose once he’d finished reading, dropping the paper to his desk and digging the heels of his hands into his eyes, fighting back what he hoped weren’t tears. He dragged his hands down his face and begrudgingly grabbed the letter once more, clutching onto the sides hard enough to make the paper strain. His fingers shook, looking for any force he had in him to tear the paper in two.
Yet, he could not find that force in him.
He let out a heavy sigh, gently setting the letter down and folding it in half once, twice, then tucking it away on his bookshelf. One day he’d tear it, but not today. For now, he just wanted to rest. This was all too much for him to bear.
To Faust’s surprise, weeks later, that human returned. The same human from before, this time more put together and less tangled in sticks and vines. His youthful, handsome, yet average looks were much clearer when his face wasn’t scrunched in fear, but Faust wasn’t one for admiring a human’s lackluster beauty.
When Faust peaked his head out from his house, the human quickly caught sight of him and rushed to his front door, digging into his knapsack as he did so. He had a grin on his face that grated Faust’s nerves, but only met his eyes when he pushed a new letter into Faust’s hands.
“Sir Faust! The King has written you another… Another...” The human paused, eyebrows furrowing. “You cut your hair. Why is that? It was very beautiful before.”
“I’m not Faust,” Faust replied, pointedly ignoring the comment on his hair.
“Nonsense. The King told me to come back here because you must be the wizard he’s been writing to.” The man nodded resolutely, and urged the letter towards Faust once more. “I hope you don’t mind, but I took a peek inside this letter. It’s funny, I’ve never seen Lord Alec—”
Faust snatched the letter from the human’s hands, scowling. “Why were you going through letters not addressed to you?! Are you mad?”
The human hesitated, putting his hands up in defense. “No, Sir Faust, I was just wondering… Since… Lord Alec rarely takes time out of his day…!”
Interrupting the man’s pathetic attempts to explain himself, Faust asked, “What’s your name?”
“My name? My name is Osprey, Sir Faust.” Slowly lowering his hands, the human still seemed uneasy.
“Osprey, if you do not leave this forest immediately, I will curse you and your family for generations. Better yet, I’ll call upon the spirits to drag you further in and make you their next meal.” A shadow fell over his features. “Begone.”
With a frightened yelp, Osprey nodded his head and dashed away, struggling to keep from tripping over the many branches and roots protruding from the ground. Faust watched as he left, the sour look on his face only fading once he was out of sight.
With an irritated mumble, Faust circled back into his house, shutting the door behind him. The letter was just as quality as the last, put together with love and care. The wizard sat himself on a stool and pulled into his desk, leaning his elbows on delicately carved wood. He twisted the envelope around, front and back, until he found it in him to gingerly pull it open and grab the letter.
This time, the words were written much neater, even more than the last, and less strained. When Faust thought back, the other letter looked as if it’d been written by memory, repeated over and over onto many different sheets of paper— This letter had been written just once.
‘My dear Faust,
It seems that my letter has finally found you. Osprey told me of a beautiful wizard he encountered deep within the woods, and there was only one possible candidate for such a description. I cannot express how glad I am to have finally found you, to know that you are safe.
Even if I don’t receive a response just yet, which I will not blame you for, I would not want to talk to me either, just knowing that you are receiving my letters is enough to give me peace of mind. Though, I greatly look forward to the day where I receive a letter back from you.
... I have finally come to terms with the truth. I made a fatal mistake sentencing you, and you must know it was not my intention to ever put you in harm’s way. They’re empty words now, however, as I know I have hurt you beyond human comprehension. My apologies will not mean a thing, and I am ashamed to even say the words ‘I’m sorry’. An apology will never heal the scars I have carved into your soul, but they’re all I can offer.
All I can hope for is that you won’t hate me, but I wouldn’t blame you if you did. Though, please do not let my image and actions destroy your view on humankind itself. I will continue working for a world where humans and wizards can live in harmony, whether you have given up on that dream or not, because it was ours.
Please, write back when you feel the time is right.
From,
Alec.’
That was the first time Faust had heard Alec apologize— For anything . His executioner was as headstrong as humans came, how else would you expect him to get so many men behind his movement, to found a whole country?
Despite never hearing Alec express remorse for anything, never having heard an apology leave him out loud or on paper, Faust could feel nothing but contempt at having received such a message. If burning him at the stake was what it took to hear Alec’s first apology, he’d rather him keep his shame.
Besides , Faust thought, neatly folding his second letter and tucking it on top of the first, if he was truly sorry, he’d come tell him himself.
The rainy season of Spring was nearing its end when Faust came home from a long walk only to find his door slightly agape. Rarely would he find it surprising, especially this time of year, when the animals of the forest were stirring and the breeze was strong. There was one thing Faust found strange, though.
When he took a glance at his bed, where he would normally find his single black cat, there were now two cats, one of a similar stature as his but with a white coat. The cats were mingling well, curled together on the mattress. As Faust approached, the white cat raised its head in surprise, then immediately began to purr, rubbing its cheek against Faust’s outstretched hand.
Faust quickly used his other hand to scratch the back of the intruder cat’s scruff, eyes creased from the width of his smile. Even if this cat had broken in, it didn’t seem to be disturbing his own— He dare even say they got along well. If the cat had found solace in his home, then he wouldn’t force it out.
What was strange was just how well kempt the kitty was, especially during the season. How its perfect white fur was still clean, Faust hadn’t had a clue. Even he, who put in the effort to stay tidy, had found the ends of his robes and his shoes muddy when he strayed out too far into the forest. It wasn’t worth mulling over, Faust figured. He should be happy this cat chose his home to stay.
A pleasant smile still on his face, Faust shut and locked his door completely—If the cat was here, he didn’t want it to leave—Until his gaze was caught by the mess strewn on his desk. At first, Faust had assumed the new creature in his home was just exploring the nooks and crannies of this unfamiliar environment, but upon further inspection, Faust came to the realization that one of the papers thrown about his desk had a note on it, and his quill was placed neatly beside it. No creature without opposable thumbs and the ability to understand and communicate with people could have done such a thing!
Faust whipped his head towards the window, pressing himself against it to catch sight of someone who might be leaving after leaving him a message, only to be met with what was normally outside his window: nothing but dirt and trees.
Keeping his eye on the window, Faust sheepishly approached the note, bringing it close to his face to read it once he’d finally turned his head.
‘I came to bring you a gift, but I must have missed you. Her name’s Guinevere, I know you’ll take good care of her.
— Alec’
“Her name is Guinevere,” Faust repeated. “Her name is…”
The wizard’s jaw dropped, throwing the note to the desk. That damned Alec broke into his house?! Admittedly, it was to drop off a cat, which he would happily keep— But Alec broke into his house !
Murmuring something along the lines of a curse that’d follow the Granvelle’s for generations, Faust decided he’d be adding 3 more locks on the door and a barrier around his house from now on. Apparently, even tucked away this deep into the woods, he could never escape pesky humans breaching his territory.
Knowing Alec had stepped foot into his home left a sour taste in his mouth, enough for him to toss his note into the trash and crumble onto his bed, his pets’ sleep being disrupted. As he murmured out a small apology, the cats found themselves being even comfier atop Faust’s chest, to which Faust had no complaints.
(He didn’t remember dozing off, but when he woke back up, he pulled the note out of the trash and placed it on top of the rest of Alec’s letters.)
Faust, despite placing the nastiest, scariest curse he could muster around the surroundings of his house, continued to receive letters throughout the years, all delicately penned and signed by his ex-lover.
All of the letters following Alec’s visit had been delivered by Osprey, of whom Faust had begun tracking the passage of time with. He was growing older, getting wrinkles, hair greying— All those tedious things aging humans dealt with. Yet he continued to traverse to Faust’s house every few weeks, delivering a new message specially crafted by Alec.
One of the earliest letters he received after Alec’s visit was buried under a stack.
‘I have exciting news, I am sure you must’ve heard already, no matter where you have tucked yourself away. My son was born a few days ago, and I have been too wrapped up in all the chaos it brought to notify you.
I wish you could have been here, I’m sure you would’ve been as excited as I.
Though, how is our daughter (if you will let me call her that)? I was greatly disappointed to find that you had disappeared by time I made it to the centre of those woods— it took hours, if you were curious, but no spirit is any match for me.
... And Excalibur.’
Faust scoffed. The forest hummed. “You foolish man. Those spirits could have killed you.”
Another, received deep into the months of winter, had read:
‘How are you faring today? I dearly hope you haven’t been touched by the cold that seems to have wiped out most of Central for the season. Then again, I can’t recall a time you were ever sick, only times where you would be tending to me in my illness.’
Despite the circumstances, that letter had gotten a smile out of Faust, fingers twitching from the chill. “You’re right. You were always getting yourself sick with your carelessness.”
He got a letter during the deepest night of the summer, too, where even the shaded forest was warm and full of life.
‘I have been thinking, my love, of how our lives could be right now, had I not made such a fatal error. I’m often away from the castle with my thoughts, to the point a minister has taken it upon himself to build a small cabin in the palace woods for me.
You’d love it here, truly. The sun rises so beautifully and washes the house in gold, and sets in a vibrant hue of purple. I would love to bring you here, if you ever find the time in your schedule to visit Central. You should bring Guinevere with you, too, I’m sure she’d love to play outside.’
“I have my own home.” Faust frowned. “There’s no need for you to invite me to yours.”
One letter in particular had truly gotten a reaction out of Faust. It was the first time he’d broken into tears while reading instead of the time after, when he stayed up at night brooding over Alec’s words.
‘I’m unsure as to whether you have kept in contact with your family, but my talks with your sister have led me to believe you have most likely secluded yourself from everyone. Your sister is a very proficient maid, I am pleased to tell you. She taught me how to braid hair recently, I am hoping I can show you my skills when you return. After all, the most beautiful wizard deserves the most beautiful hairstyle.
I should mention that your mother moved into the castle a few months ago per my request, but she is growing older by the day. I am not sure how many years or months she has ahead of her, but I’m sure she would be overjoyed to see her son again. I would even leave the castle to allow you privacy if you came.
She misses you, my beloved. We all do.’
He was silent.
Time passed, Faust and the forest were unchanging. He hadn’t caught sight of that delivery boy human in a long while, and Faust figured Alec had finally gotten sick of going without a response after all these years. The thought made Faust’s chest twist in pain just as much as it made him grin in joy.
Finally. He left me alone. Oh, God. He left me alone.
He was fickle, spending his time without hearing from Alec. He spent nights crying over him, missing the life he had with his soulmate. He spent nights laughing by a bonfire, relishing in a life without being controlled by a human. He spent nights struggling to sleep, feeling his arms bound to a cross, feeling flames crawling up his legs.
At some point, Faust had finally accepted that Alec grew sick of him. He was sure he’d never receive another letter, not from Alec, not from anybody— Not until he received a particularly long, emotional piece. The handwriting was shaky, unlike anything Faust had read before, even if it was true he hadn’t heard from a human in what must have been years.
Pressing his glasses up his nose, seated on a cushioned chair, Faust began to read.
‘Dear Faust,
It pains me to have never heard from you after all this time, but I suppose it is my punishment. This is what I deserve for sentencing you. No number of church visits or blessings have ever washed my soul clean of the guilt that ebbs away at it every moment of the day. It eats away at me in sleep and has been doing so since the day you escaped Central, no matter how many decades ago it was.
I repent, Faust. This is contrition, and I have nothing left to give.
The years have passed in the blink of an eye, and yet it still feels like an eternity. I made many plans for our lost future, more plans than I care to admit, even to you. I told nobody of them, but I have spent most, if not all, of my life daydreaming of the future we promised together.
Many things would’ve been an impossibility with us together, we could never have lived a normal life, but that wouldn’t have mattered. It never mattered to me, not as long as I was with you. If I had chosen the happy ending of our story, I would be able to face every day without complaint, as I would’ve had you by my side. Instead, I have lived every year after my most grievous mistake alone and as the shell of a king that once stood, riddled with misery.
My life has been plagued by ‘what if’s, and this shall be the first and last time I accept the truth. I drove you away with my selfishness. I signed your death warrant out of fear. I do not expect forgiveness, nor do I want it. My error in judgement is the burden I have to carry alone.
And this will also be my last letter to you, my dear Faust, as my time has finally reached its end. Though, do not believe for a moment that you can get rid of me so easily, as my soul will be eternally with you, as it has been since the moment we met.
So today I shall say so long to my first and last love, not goodbye. For I will never stop searching a life where you and I may live without complication. I pray for the day, even in death, where we shall be able to cross paths once more.
Yours forever,
Alec.’
Faust’s face contorted, reading over the letter a second time, then a third, and finally setting it down on his polished desk. It was harder to read with each look over until something in Faust finally broke. If Alec was going to go as far as threaten his demise, then Faust must get the last word in.
He dug through his drawers for a clean piece of paper, dipped his quill, and began to write.
‘Alec Granvelle,
I’ve heard from you all these years and am only now writing back. I couldn’t promise you I don’t feel remorse for such a thing, but I’d expect you to understand why it’s taken me so long to conjure up a response.
I do not forgive you for what you did. No matter how much you pray for forgiveness or think of me in the deepest dark of the night—Just as I think about you—I will never forgive you, nor will I forgive humankind, Central Country, or any compliant peers in your revolution. Consider yourself lucky I’ve yet to curse you.
… And while I will forever condemn you for what you did, I don’t wish you a painful or remorseful death. I hope that you can die in peace, as most humans do, and you do not die alone. I will not be coming to your funeral. I hope to never show face in Central again. Certainly, you understand why.
If this letter is the final paper you read before you die, which I doubt, as you have always been headstrong and persevering—I’m certain you will live many years from now, even—I hope you can die knowing that I still love you. Whether that makes you feel better or worse, I don’t care.
Were I to write the full extent of my feelings, this paper would be scrawled on front and back, or even several pages long. Because of this, I will not be writing my further thoughts.
I hope my family is okay. I hope you live much longer. Do not send me any further letters. I will not reply more than once.
Regards,
Faust Lavinia.’
For the first time in decades, Faust ventured out of the forest. He travelled by broom to Central country, gave his letter to the first respectable (albeit, frightened by the sight of a cloaked, faceless wizard) lady he could find, and requested she deliver it to the king. Faust didn’t stick around long enough to see her confused face.
He went about the rest of his life without a second thought. Faust never considered if Alec ever received his letter, how he’d react to such a thing, what he did with it, if ( when, how ) he died— The life of a Central citizen was behind him after that letter.
Time passed. He casted a spell on his cats so they wouldn’t grow old or die. His hut had become a house, a home, and was fully hospital for a wizard and his family of pets. He got a crest on his shoulder blade and realized he’d gotten chosen as a Sage’s Wizard, much to his dismay. He fought the Great Calamity. He didn’t think about Alec. He tried not to, at least.
Time continued to pass. One day, a human showed up at his door.
The human had messy brown hair, dull eyes, and was clad in a brown suit. He looked fearful and worn, clearly not cut out for the trip this deep into the forest. This human looked just like—
“Osprey?” Faust’s eyebrows furrowed. “It’s been quite some time since I’ve seen you.”
Letting out a confused noise, the human shook his head hurriedly. “No, no. I’m not Osprey! My name is Cock Robin!”
“Don’t make fun of me. I’m smarter than that,” Faust grumbled. “I told Alec not to send any more letters. If you have one to deliver me, keep it to yourself.”
“Alec…?” Cock Robin, this human was supposedly named, rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “This isn’t from Alec, he…” Thinking twice, he shook his head, offering Faust an envelope. “This is from my Young Master. Please read it. I’ll be going!”
As soon as Faust took the letter, Cock Robin left in a rush, hightailing it away from the wizard’s home. Faust watched in a daze, a deep frown set on his face when he looked down to the letter.
If it wasn’t from Alec, who else would be sending him a letter? He considered anybody else that’d be close enough to bother writing to him. His old servant, maybe— But how would Lennox have found him? Perhaps his teacher— But Figaro was the one who left first; there was no reason for him to seek a pleasant conversation with Faust of all people.
Faust stepped back into his house, taking a seat on the edge of his bed. His cats, stirred from their sleep, languidly came to his side and curled in his lap. He tore open the letter and glanced it over. The handwriting was neat, but not Alec’s, Faust was certain of that.
He took a moment to read it, slowly.
‘Dear Faust Lavinia,
I hope this letter finds you well, if it finds you at all.
I found your letter by chance in a discarded pile in my father’s study, and was too curious to ignore it... after all, it was addressed to my grandfather. It isn’t often Granvelle castle receives letters addressed to the deceased.
I’m sorry I have to be the one to tell you of his passing, though it has been a number of years, and I’m incredibly sorry for reading the privy of your thoughts. My grandfather always told me stories about a lost love of his, from years before I was born... I’m surprised to hear from you.
I suppose that you must be the wizard that caused quite the ruckus at his funeral when you never showed... I think my grandfather told everyone he knew to expect your arrival, including me. He asked for someone on his deathbed, but I was too young to remember the name. It was you, wasn’t it?
... I can only apologise on grandfather’s behalf for what occurred in Central, but I’m certain he must have apologised to no end himself. I believe that he never sentenced you of his own free will, he never loved wisely, but he loved much too well.
Wherever my Grandfather has ended up, I truly hope that one day you will be able to meet him again. Whether it be in the afterlife, or in another life, I will be forever rooting for you to receive the best, together or apart.
I’d love to meet you to talk more about my grandfather, if you ever had the chance. Central will always welcome you with open arms, as will I.
Yours sincerely,
Arthur Granvelle.’
Faust had received a letter from Alec’s successor, another Granvelle.
For the first time in decades, Faust was once more a Central citizen, brooding over Alec and the revolution, mulling over his lost friends and family, considering what the grandson of his late lover would look like.
Amongst all this brooding, Faust had begun to conjure a plan.
One more peaceful day in the Valley of Storms passed, and Faust had boarded his broom with nothing more than him and the clothes on his back. He had a destination in mind, the only other place besides his forest he’d been to in the last hundred years— The wizard made his way to Central country, straight for Granvelle Castle. Had his lover died and the Granvelle line furthered, it was only right that he visited the remains of the family he once planned to marry into. He was going to visit this Arthur Granvelle child, and see just what the descendants of Alec had become.