Work Text:
Dear Lisa,
How have you been currently? I’m doing well, thanks.
Sorry. I’m bad at starting sentences.
Everyone surprised me today. It’s my birthday, if you’ve forgotten. Kaeya led me to a room to ‘discuss’ important matters- nothing you should be concerned about, and everyone jumped at me. They sang me a rather out of tune birthday song.
I never know what to do in those kind of situations. Do I sing with them? Do I clap and cheer for something that will happen for only a brief, fleeting moment? Something that’ll happen again and again and again and again until one day, people will whisper of me in the church, in the valleys and in the bars across the city. They’ll whisper of a person whose name is long forgotten, but they’ll whisper of the good deeds they did, the admiration they received, the people they loved.
No one whispers about you anymore.
I went to visit your grave afterwards. It’s still looks the same, no flowers, no headstone, no indication you were ever there. There’s only memory that still clings you to this place.
I’m scared that I’ll forget you too, and then you’ll be gone.
Every day’s the same. Wake up, deal with important businesses, talk with important figures, task Amber to clear out nearby hilichurl camps, rinse and repeat.
Sometimes before I even know it, I’m in the library holding a book I don’t remember reading. I’ll look down at the book title, and realise it’s something you recommended to me.
It’s a beautiful book.
I’m writing this under candlelight besides Klee’s bedroom. She doesn’t mention you in her stories anymore, where she’s the knight and I’m the evil dragon. I feel bad for her, but when I ask her about you she simply shrugs and says, ‘What do you mean she’s not in my stories? Lisa’s the sun and the grass and the wind who guides me to the dragon. And the wind stays with the dragon for as long as it can, but it always has to go back to its place in nature, guiding people.’
‘It’s a shame that the wind can’t follow the people it helped to see the world.’
And, Klee’s right. It is quite a shame.
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It’s getting late already. Another day has gone past, another day where the future is closer. Tomorrow, I’ll leave a white rose and this letter at your resting place . Maybe that’ll be a reminder to the world that once upon a time, a lady with brown locks that shined with the morning sun and had green eyes so deep and bright I’ll look into them, and feel like a whole life lies within something that is no longer anything but a memory. A dream that has yet to be dreamed.
I’ll whisper to that green eyed lady about the things that have changed, the places and the people who have grown up and perhaps she’ll smile at me and say ‘Well, you’ve certainly grown up as well. I think it’s time to wake up, love.’
I think it’s time for me to wake up too, Lisa. I’ll never be ready for this, but it’s time.
And I’m sorry again, but you wouldn’t care about apologies, would you?
Love, Jean.