Work Text:
Thrain didn't think Mavuika would actually take his offer and write him a letter, so he is genuinely surprised when a newly arrived letter from the realm of the living has "Dear Thrain" as its opening, instead of the usual "To my sister, Hine." The fact that it hasn't been that long since his little trip to the realm of the living only adds to his surprise.
He opens the letter fully, curious about what Mavuika could possibly write to him.
Dear Thrain,
I hope death is still treating you well. I know you will not be able to send me a reply, and I'm sure you already realized this, but I am not really an articulate person when it comes to myself, even in letters, but since you offered, I hope that, at the very least, you find reading my letters to be a good enough way to pass the time. You have an eternity to spend, after all.
The nation is doing fine, if not better than it has ever been. I forgot to tell you this when we met, but some of us were actually at a loss as to what to do once the Abyss is no longer a constant threat to our lives. There were even afternoons when I found warriors wandering the perimeter of the Stadium of the Sacred Flames because they did not know what to do with themselves, with all the spare time suddenly dumped onto their hands, now that they no longer needed to use their every waking moment to prepare for a deadly battle with Abyssal monsters.
To help the people settle into our newly attained peaceful life, I, the Traveler, and our friends decided to continue holding the Pilgrimage of the Return of the Sacred Flames solely for the competition. I wanted to give the warriors something that was familiar to hold on to, yet also could help push them to go forward with their lives.
I am well aware that it is only a temporary solution to our current, unbelievably mundane problem, but I am positive we can come up with creative and spectacular ways to spend our lives, so even though we are still rather clumsy in maneuvering our threat-free life, I believe we will manage.
But I want to admit that, even though I am doing my very best in helping my people settle into our new life by opening as many opportunities as I can for them to take, I myself do not know what to do with this freedom, with all these choices, even though compared to the others, I do not have as many. I still have my duties and responsibilities to the nation, after all. But without the constant threat from the Abyss, I found myself having more time to myself than I knew what to do with.
I tried exploring Natlan and thinking of ways I can upgrade my bike, but I ended up annoying Xilonen with a huge pile of bike update requests. The last time I saw her, she looked like she was a request away from challenging me to a fight. I was afraid that either she would soon do just that or visit me in the Speaker's Chamber to shove a formal complaint directly to my face, so before either actually happens, I figured I needed to find another way to pass the time. I was taking a little walk and wondering what other activity —or hobby— I could pick up that night I met you, and you just happened to offer to be another recipient of my letters. Your timing was so impeccable that I can't help but smile at the memory.
I hope you do not mind my writing a silly, pointless letter like this to you because I am thinking of writing you more. I imagine you would love hearing about how Ororon and the Traveler are faring, so I will try writing to you regularly to keep you updated about them.
Not that you can send me a complaint even if you do mind.
I think it is better to end this letter here before I start boring you.
Until my next letter.
Warm regards,
Mavuika
Dear Thrain,
I hope death is still treating you well.
Recently, we held a new trial —The Bloomflower Trial— to help a sickly Tepetlisaur named Milray recover from a rare illness. The illness was caused by the corruption of the Abyss. The little guy hid his condition from everyone until the war ended, by which time it had already worsened enough to make the usually energetic Saurian look lifeless. After consulting Ifa, the renowned vet from the Flower-Feather Clan, we discovered that in order to cure him, we need a purer form of the Sacred Flame —the Sacred Flame Crystal— which apparently can be produced by holding a competition called the Bloomflower Trial.
According to the records, the competition is more intense than The Pilgrimage, occasionally resulting in a purer form of the Sacred Flame than Contending Sparks we usually produce. You must think it should have become a better way to preserve the Sacred Flame than the Pilgrimage, so why haven't you heard of it?
That was because the competition caused quite a strife back in ancient Natlan and the then Pyro Archon, along with the chiefs, decided to hold a milder competition, resulting in the Pilgrimage we know and still hold even today.
It was a great way to keep our warriors occupied after the war and since we still do not have anything long-term set for us to do other than some relief and rebuilding efforts, all the tribes agreed to participate in the trial.
Although I do think it is a shame that I couldn't participate, it gave me a sense of pride seeing my people now compete just for the sake of it. It was also quite refreshing to see the six heroes kid around. I wish you could see Ororon competing in the trial. The boy was more concerned about his vegetables than participating and he didn't even bother hiding it.
I did wonder, if you were here, would you have participated to help us? Would we be able to have a little spar, then?
In the end, we managed to secure some Sacred Flame Crystals and saved Milray. We also safely sent Antu, a stray little Qucusaur soul who wanted to help cure Milray, to the Night Kingdom. He was a good kid. Please treat him as well as death has been treating you.
I had hoped we could get a glimpse of you when the portal to the Night Kingdom opened for Antu, but you were not there. Well, perhaps we can see each other next time.
I think that is enough story for a single letter. Until my next one.
Sincerely,
Mavuika
Dear Thrain,
How is life —or should I say, death?— over there? I hope it is as entertaining as life here is for me.
Our journey to find out what we should do once the war ends unfortunately has yet to come to an end, but the people remain high-spirited. I hope the people there are also as high-spirited as we are over here.
I'm afraid there is not much I can write you these days. Now that things are more stable, the people can focus more on themselves, on their dreams and wishes. They are busy trying to navigate their own life that not much trouble has come up these days.
In fact, the days are so peaceful that the most trouble we have had over the past few months since we met again was a few minor hot spring accidents at the People of the Springs and some sprained ankles at the Collective of Plenty.
After facing the Abyss, our days now feel blissfully mundane that I'm afraid that if I do not actively keep my mind sharp and my body in top condition, these peaceful days would have changed me until you will not be able to recognize me the next time we meet.
We still have a spar to do, so do not worry, I will not let myself be lulled by the mundanity of our current life. I will make sure our spar will be as exhilarating as our fight in the Stadium of the Sacred Flames.
I hope you do not let your peaceful days over there erode your fighting skills, too.
Sorry for the shorter letter, there is just not much to do these days that I honestly do not know what I can write you. For now.
I will still send you letters, though, so I hope I have not bored you yet.
Until my next letter.
Sincerely,
Mavuika
Dear Thrain,
I hope you are enjoying your death as much as Ororon is enjoying his life.
Now that he has more time for himself, the boy pours most of it into gardening and aphid-keeping, and when he is not, he is with either Citlali or Ifa. Ifa is the famous vet from the Flower-Feather Clan that I mentioned a couple of letters back, in case you do not remember.
Ifa is typically friendly and gets along well with pretty much everyone. When he is with other people, most of the time he shows the reliable and cool-headed side of himself. However, when he is together with Ororon, that side of him melts away until you can see the kid he still is at heart.
He is very patient with everyone, even more so with Ororon, but when they are together, Ororon's tendency to blurt out whatever silly thing comes to his mind irritates him to the point he can't help but blurt out a silly response himself to get back at him.
As far as I'm aware, though, Ifa has not succeeded at getting back at Ororon. Yet.
I wish you could see them bantering. It is refreshing and funny. It's like seeing two kids bicker.
Since Ororon spent a considerable time with you and your troops back in the war, I'm sure you can imagine it.
The last I heard of the two, they are planning a little trip to Fontaine to deliver Ororon's vegetables to a customer. Our economy is thriving now that the war ended and it's much safer for us to travel and for foreigner to come visit us, so of course, Ororon's top quality vegetables also gets noticed by merchants.
Though I can't be happier with how things turn out, there are downsides to us opening up more to other nations. Smuggling cases are increasing significantly that even Kinich has become busier than ever handling those cases. With how things are right now, the smugglers not only smuggle Saurians out of the border like they used to, but some ancient dragon relics as well.
We still don't know what their goal is for smuggling those relics yet, but if I have to guess, I think it might have something to do with the project of the Fatui in Nod Krai. Though I'm sure you know this well, I would like to assure you that your troops are safe here and have nothing to do with the cases I mentioned above.
They are as honorable as you.
After you left us, they helped a lot in our rebuilding efforts and enjoyed a little vacation before going back to Snezhnaya.
I had hoped your "colleagues" and their subordinates are as honorable as you and your troops, but unfortunately some the reports I received from the Traveler, Citlali, and Chasca proved otherwise.
I almost forgot to mention that, apparently, Ororon could sense your presence in the living realm when you were stranded here. He was quite disappointed that you did not come see him even though you had a considerable time to do so. It turns out he is a night owl and he was awake back then.
Apologies, I didn't know that. If I had known, I would have suggested that you visit him.
Next time, I will make sure you pay him a little visit.
Until my next letter.
Sincerely,
Mavuika
Dear Thrain,
I hope you remember about Ororon and Ifa's little plan to visit Fontaine that I mentioned in my previous letter. They went to Fontaine, successfully delivered the vegetables, had fun watching films and attending a local film festival, and helped solve a smuggling case while they were at it.
When they went, there was a trial being held for a case regarding relics smuggled from ruins in Natlan, which Kinich became a key witness to. Coincidentally, the buyer of the smuggler from the case found out that the goods he was going to pick up was already taken away and handed to the Palais Mermonia.
It seems the buyer was desperate enough to get the goods back because the man just asked Ororon, who he just met, to retrieve the goods for him. Ororon did do as he asked, but the Traveler and their Fontainian friends, and Kinich was there, and when they heard Ororon's story, they immediately knew the man was fishy.
Long story short, with Ororon and Ifa's help, Kinich, the Traveler, and their local friends succeeded in arresting the smuggler with the information and clues they extorted from the buyer.
From what I heard, between delivering vegetables and helping in the arrest of a criminal, the boy also managed to squeeze in some time to watch some movies and visit the local film festival with Ifa in the short amount of time he spent there.
The boy was having a blast over there and I couldn't be happier for him, knowing what he thought about his life back in the war.
But, Ororon seems to have picked up a thing or two from the films he and Ifa watched, and applied them to his daily activities randomly.
Citlali told me when we were out drinking the other day that the boy frustrated her to no end because after returning from Fontaine, he loves shouting"Flower-Feather Clan Patrol Team — open up!" when he's about to open something, surprising everyone nearby. As always, Citlali ended up having to handle the incovenience that her grandson —unintentionally, I assume— had caused.
I had the luck to witness Ororon's antics first-hand a couple weeks ago when he visited the Speaker's Chamber for an errand from the tribe. The boy shouted "The Speaker's Chamber Guard — open up!" behind the door instead of knocking to announce his arrival. Everyone was so surprised they jumped before confusion took place on their faces. The people's faces as they tried to understand what was going on was priceless. I had to fake a cough to cover my laugh.
It wasn't the last time he did it and it never fail to at least bring a smile to my face. I always had to cover my smile every time because Ororon always shouted the line when people least expected it, and everyone nearby jumped in surprise. At times, I hoped you were here to witness it.
At those times, I often found myself wondering, would you laugh then, if you had seen it?
Then the thought would soon be followed by another; how would your laugh —not that almost inaudible chuckle you did right before we bid each other goodbye, but a real laugh— sound?
Would it sound free that now you are no longer burdened by your immortality?
How would you look like then?
Come to think of it, I have never seen the face behind that mask of yours.
What are you hiding behind that mask? Was your face affected by your curse, so much that you couldn't stand seeing it? If that was the case, how does it look now that you have left your body? Have you ever taken off your helmet to check?
Then, my thoughts would spiral into thoughts about you. At the end of those thoughts, I found myself arriving at the same conclusion every time: I want to see you. I want to see you without the mask and get to know you more. I also want to hear you laugh. Freely.
Next time we meet, I will make sure to take your helmet off and get a laugh out of you. A hearty one. You'd better come prepared.
Sincerely,
Mavuika
(Thrain's brows scrunched in confusion reading the last lines of Mavuika's newest letter.
"Come prepared"? This is the second time Mavuika wrote with implications that he would be the one going there instead of her coming here the next time they meet.)
Dear Thrain,
I'm sorry, I had a little too much to drink with Citlali and the others before I wrote the previous letter. I must have confused you. Please don't pay it any mind.
But I do mean what I wrote.
Dear Thrain,
I'm sorry that I don't have much time to write these days. I've been quite preoccupied with preparations for the end of the year. I'm planning something for the end of the year and it makes time flies even faster.
Since the night we meet again, I've been thinking that, despite priding ourselves of our heroes and claiming that we always honor them, there are little records remain of them, especially the fallen ones.
The fact only became even more prominent after I only managed to take out an armful of scrolls and records trying to look for ones about the heroes from 500 years ago. It was only 500 years ago and yet, we only have so little documented. There were even less of you and your knights despite you helping us greatly back then.
Of course, the nearly ceaseless attacks from the Abyss played a part as well, but I think the fault for this lies mostly on ourselves. It was due to our negligence that things became like this. We didn't pour enough of our time to preserve our heroes' deeds and tales, and eventually, time erodes them until there is scarcely any left.
It saddens me that some of our greatest heroes' existence is lost to time after their death.
That's why, aside from having our scholar research and record our history, I've been thinking of setting a day dedicated especially to honor the dead.
On that day, us here will remember the dead, visit their graves and monuments erected to honor them, and recount their tales. That way, I hope that no one will be forgotten.
They will be immortalized in various forms; written and verbal.
That way, only the heroes' body dies while their soul, their memory continues to live.
No one will die twice on this land.
And since you have control over the leylines now and you were able to visit us here on the longest night of the year, and even opened a portal for Antu to cross over to the Night Kingdom, I'm wondering if you could, maybe, one day bring the souls of the heroes to visit their family and friends or just visit us here to witness today's Natlan.
I want them to see that their efforts weren't in vain.
I understand that you may not have full control of the leylines yet and it might be difficult to have them all come here without disturbing the natural balance of things, but I think it's worth a try.
Only if you agree, of course.
I would love to hear your thoughts on this, so I will try calling you from over here on the longest night of the year.
We can discuss things further, then. In person.
I hope you will respond to my call.
Sincerely,
Mavuika
In my letter, I mentioned that I hope the souls of the heroes could come here. Just to be clear, by "the souls of the heroes", I also meant you.
Thrain folds Mavuika's last letter neatly as a smile tugs on his lips.
He had thought that there was still a considerable time left or at least enough of it for her to send him another letter, but the thrum of power in his chest and the ghostly echo of his name in his ears tell him that it is the longest day of the year already.
Wordlessly, Thrain tucks the letter into the inner pocket of his coat.
When they bid each other goodbye that day, he genuinely thought that the next time they meet would be when he greets her the day she becomes a part of the Night Kingdom.
He supposes the time he spent in the Night Kingdom makes him forget that she is ingenious and determined.
With how she managed to find a way to turn the tide over in their favor back in the war, he shouldn't have been surprised that she found a way to drag him to meet her.
A chuckle slips out of his lips.
Well, he is glad to know that the feeling he has of wanting to know the other better is mutual.
With a swish of his hand, a portal to the world of the living opens in front of him and he steps readily into it.
It's time for him to respond to her call.