Letters From Armin: Anxieties And Portends

Selected Letters of Armin R. Tolor, No. 4

This is Selected Letters of Armin R. Tolor, a serial which will release every three weeks. To catch up on past letters, see The Index. For information on the illustrations, see the footnote¹.

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Dear Jason,

It is hard to blame the Maristos for being violently agitated at the imposition of Martial Law. I do wish you weren’t in danger. We heard about the explosion at one of the encampments, it took me days to find out if it was yours—imagine my relief when I learned it was not.

Yet I can’t help but share your thoughts, that the Duke has misplayed his hand. Violence seems to be increasing, and there has been likewise no imposition on the Midlands though they seem very much the instigators of the whole crisis. I am sorry to hear of the loss of your comrade at arms, I cannot imagine. We do martial exercises here but the sting of battle and the danger to our lives is very distant and remote—none here can claim to have any comprehension of events there, yet everyone seems to speak of it as if they are political experts with total comprehension of every nuance which binds the hands of the Duke and his loyal Counts.

I organized a care package to be sent for you and your unit—if you have not received it yet it should be arriving soon. The prayers and well wishes of your friends here in County Weyand accompany the package, and we are all thinking of you and wishing for a quick peace.

You asked in your letter if I had seen that woman from the party again. No, I’m afraid not. I’m vaguely glad of it, too—it affirms in my mind that everything I wrote to you was an affliction of fantasy and not grounded in anything real whatsoever. I resume and remain the lesser son of House Tolor, isolated from my peers and inadequate for any position of consequence. I am unsure what Father has planned for me (if anything! Ha!) but I am sure I will not enjoy it.

Mary is the happiest of all of us. I imagine God is quite amused. We all thought she was losing out on some grand life of luxury, and yet she gained the world by secluding herself from it. I hope she realizes that as well, but she is probably too humble to indulge in any self satisfaction. I don’t know whether to be happy for her or envious.

Father has deployed Lars and Ella for some political schemes of uncertain purpose. Lars has traveled to County Northplain to woo the Count there to some initiative of Father’s design. Ella has gone to the nearer County Zaelland for the same purpose. I asked Father if he intended to send me somewhere, he said no—I get to take over ceremonial duties which Lars or Ella had previously overseen. Nothing of particular excitement.

Winter’s beachhead has pushed into a full invasion and the clouds threaten snow at any moment. In the winter months I always wonder if we’ll ever see the sun again—it feels so far away. Every bad headline and news broadcast makes you feel farther away as well. Stay safe, be careful! I continue to pray for a swift peace.

Your friend,

-Armin

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1. Illustrations were created on commission by

The Chronicler

. If you are interested in commissioning The Chronicler to create artwork for your own project, see this page HERE.