Letters From Armin: Mary's Decision
Selected Letters of Armin R. Tolor, No. 1
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.
Dear Jason,
I was most pleased to receive your letter. It has been too long and I would love to host you here at Nordhaus if you can get away. I know your duties in the Service surely keep you occupied, if you have an extended leave please do see if you can come visit us?
Things here have been rather…inauspicious. Your letter was wonderfully timed to bring me joy, but poorly timed for the mood of the House I’m afraid.
You see, just yesterday, my dear sister Mary—do you remember her? She used to always get the better of you with the wooden swords! Funny how you are very much the soldier now. Well, Mary has declared her intent to take the cloth in a cloistered order of Poor Clares nearby.
Father is furious, I am sad to say. This was not his plan, and you know how he gets when things do not go his way. Mary called an audience with Mother and Father and told them before she told Lars, Ella, and myself. We heard Father shouting before she ever left the room, poor girl. But, her resolve on this point is remarkable. I’ve never seen someone so unwavering. It is clear to me this is not some passing fancy but a determined resolution on her part.
For my own part, I received the news with mixed feelings. Of course, I have no say in the matter one way or another, so I am happy for Mary insofar as this is the life she has chosen. But also, I am sad that this would take her away from us forever—this is a cloistered order, she would be confined to the enclosed space of the monastery where she will pray and work and live a life of peaceful detachment. I confess I am sad for another reason as well—Mary and I, as the junior siblings to Lars and Ella, were always very close. We talked and played while Mother and Father fussed over our senior siblings. But I was taken completely by surprise by this news. Mary never shared a hint of it to me. And while I knew she always had a stronger faith than me—you could see it in her eyes whenever we went to Mass—I never knew she was resolved to take the cloth. I speak inner thoughts to her that I share with no one else, even you. I trust her completely. To lose both a sister and a friend to the remoteness of this monastery weighs on me like a kind of grief.
Ella took the news with feigned cruelty. She said something like, “Why should I care how you decide to throw away your life?” Her hard words masking what I believe is a betrayal—Ella and Mary I always considered friends as well, though Ella takes more after Father in her love of politics and courtship. Ella’s head has always been in the King’s Court, on some other planet than our Tilade, and not quite grounded and present. Even so, I knew and could tell that the bond between sisters was something transcendent and inaccessible to me. However much I considered myself friend to Mary, Ella would always hold the esteemed title of sister. So I imagine, somewhere under that hardened outer shell, Ella is heartbroken. Yet, ever the player of the game, she closed her heart to Mary as soon as it was clear that their bond would be tested by distance and seclusion; as soon as it was clear that Mary was charting a course which was not oriented around loyalty to Ella.
At this news, I cannot blame Mary for keeping it secret from us. Mary’s heartbreak must be worse than Ella’s. It makes her resolve at this course that much more admirable.
Lars—he didn’t seem to understand what it meant. Mary might as well have told him she was joining the circus, he probably would have reacted the same. This made me furious. He should show more respect to a sister who has loved him and doted on him, despite his indifference to her.
After the news made its rounds and Mary could finally say the news-breaking phase was behind her, I sought out Mary to talk to her—brother-to-sister—and find out how she was doing.
I could see that this weighed heavily on her. Yet she had a kind of…resigned serenity about it. She wished the family handled it better, naturally—but she also said she knew this was the path for her. She was putting away the accidents of a Noble House and taking on the simplicity of a life devoted to God. That made her happier than anything else. Nothing else mattered.
So, as you can see, Jason—the boat has very much been rocked here. We are all trying to adjust. Hopefully by the time I receive your next letter, I will have happier news to report.
Your friend,
-Armin
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Illustrations were created on commission by
. If you are interested in commissioning The Chronicler to create artwork for your own project, see this page HERE.
What a delightful letter! This style of letter-writing is something you just don't get in this email age. I am very much looking forward to the next episode.
I like how the fact that, oh, by the way, we're on another planet, is almost casually dropped in; it sets the tone of the letter perfectly. I feel like you've captured a little world here. Beautiful.