Letter to a Stranger
A box full of papers
The house is dark, appearing abandoned at first, like so many of the other small buildings are. Surrounding the house is a field of green stalks, each one topped with vibrant yellow flowers. As much as the sweet smell of the stalks makes the raider’s mouth water, they have no time to stop and eat any of the crops.
But the inside of the house reveals a shocking scene. An elderly couple are stretched out on the floor around what appears to be a small stone table. Atop the table are even more of the yellow flowers resting in wooden bowls. Whatever food was within them has either been given enough time to have fully rotted away by now or have been eaten by some other being or creature, leaving behind only wilting petals and stark white tendrils stemming from their pistils.
The raider holds their torch in hand, staring at the lifeless couple with confusion and sickening disgust. Fingers claw at throats. There’s something dark and dry pooled around their faces and smeared across the stone floor.
The raider turns to the table, not wanting to linger on the dead bodies for too much longer. There is also a note present, its edges not even yellow with age, meaning it must have been sent fairly recently.
Pops, Korodon is treating me well. It was hard to find work at first - the Feni are as protective as you said they'd be - but now I have a steady job working the fields and a roof over my head. Funny, how drawn I was to farm work after all that time I spent complaining. I can't imagine how you managed to put up with all of that. Now I see that it's all I have the motivation to do. As promised, I've sent you back some seeds. Hopefully they'll grow in our soil just as well as they do here on Korodon. If it buds pink, it's healthy and safe to eat. Miss you and ma. Orin
The raider can’t help but let out an obvious huff of ‘well, clearly these flowers aren’t pink’ as they pluck the piece of paper from the table. They’re careful to fold it up neatly and slide it into their back pocket, then using their torch they light the bodies and step back outside to deal with the crops.
They take care when returning to the drop ship, being sure to sit in a position where the letter wouldn’t get too wet or bent.
“Yer trinket?” the raid leader asks before they can wander off.
“Just this letter.”
The leader grins knowingly. “Aye. Go on, then.”
Walking all the way back to the sleeping quarters, the raider stares at the letter, scanning the cursive over and over again, still wondering how such a warning was left unheeded. It’s sad, but also morbidly entertaining, to try and theorize what truly happened.
“Hey!” a fellow raider calls, wrapping an arm around their neck. “Whatcha got there, mate? Another note for yer collection?”
“Aye,” the first raider nods, neither smiling nor frowning back. They retrieve a small box resting atop their sleeping blanket and sits down to open it. Inside is a tall stack of letters, each one in various different conditions and crafted by all sorts of beings. Forgotten notes that they’ve been discovering and keeping around. Why? They don’t really have a straight-forward answer.
Also in the box is a pot of ink and a quill, which the raider retrieves and prepares to get to work.
“Ah, look who’s writin’ again,” their friend laughs over them.
“Shut up,” the raider growls back. They flip the note over and begins to scribble on its backside with fresh ink.
To Orin, Your ma and pops are dead. Not by any Guardian. Not by a raid. Not storm. Those flowers were yellow and they ate them. They were cold when I found them. Even so, your island is gone now. So is your old farm and their bodies. But you'll never know what truly happened to them in the first place. I don't really know, either. At least I was able to save your letter. It'll be safe with me. If by some miracle you somehow find this... I'm sorry.
They place the letter into the box, the fresh ink facing upwards, and puts away their writing tools. Closing the box, they feel their body unclench. Although the scene still lingers in their mind, they are less sickened by it, leaving room for sympathy to seep into their heart.
The raider can only hope now that this Orin fellow can at least grieve in peace.
My first novel, Shadowbound, is available for purchase in eBook, paperback, and hardcover formats. Subscribe to my Substack for just $5/month to read the first chapter, as well as to be able to read other first chapter sneak peeks in the future, or buy a copy of Shadowbound for yourself and others from Amazon by clicking the button below. Thank you!