Chapter Text
To my dear friend, Jek,
When this letter reaches you, I will be dead. I would ask you not to be sad, but it's cruel of me to dictate your emotions, and I like to imagine you might cry over me, even though you are not a woman prone to tears. I wish I could see you again before I face my fate, but I am a greedy creature, and I do not think one more time would be enough. In fact, I would drag you with me, which I know would do you no good. So, hopefully, this letter will suffice.
You might ask how I can be so certain of my own death, and I promise you, if there was any other way I would avoid it, but fate has me cornered, and it's time to say goodbye. You often remarked I was a strange woman who knew many things. Consider this one of the things I know. Like how I knew to look for Wintrow as a nine-fingered slave boy or my obsession with dragons and serquents. So I know I will die, and Sa, is it terrifying. I was once so sure I would die in the depths of Paragon's hull, but then I could bang my fist against him and ask for another way out. There is no one I can rage against here, and my companions would only deter my goals if they knew how terrified I am. My fool knows, and he has already tried to save my life at the sake of the world, damn him. It is strange how much he can hurt me out of his desire to protect me. I cannot help but love him more for it, and for that, truly, I am the fool.
I do not wish to fill you with sorrow in this letter, so I won't discuss my fear any further. Instead, I shall write out everything else I wish to say.
Jek, I have been so grateful to spend part of my life with you. While this may seem insulting, you are one of my only friends I was not drawn to; you just simply were my friend with no greater schemings in place. It was a type of friendship I have never had before, and I will cherish it til the end of my days. I remember when I first saw you, punching the daylights out of the poor sop who had tried to cheat you in stones. Not the best impression by a long shot, but to be honest, it was your accent that first endeared me to you. A rougher dialect that brought me back to the better part of my childhood, and for the first choice of friendship I could make, I choose you. I needed a bodyguard, but I wanted a friend. So I bought you a drink, and you said I was “a twig in coloring and form,” and the rest is a wonderful history filled with days in my shop and aboard the Paragon.
I told you more about myself than I did to any other of our friends. From Sunny days spent in the shade of my shop to the late nights in our bunk room when Althea was out consorting with brashen, I told you as much as I dared. And you would tell me of your childhood spent on the coast of Shoaks, running up and down the docks. We talked of the redship wars, and the horrors we saw and people we lost. We have had a wonderful companionship, and I will miss your inappropriate jokes and sly grins in whatever I face next.
There was a life I imagined when I wanted to be cruel to myself, where I would live past my end, and I would spend my time on board the Paragon again, or retreat to a small cottage in the Duchies and spend the rest of my days in peace with visiting friends from all periods of my life. I would carve leisurely and go to the markets once a month to trade what pieces of my collection I wished. I would watch Boy-O grow up with his loving parents and the seeds that I have sewn all my life grow into strong sturdy trees. I would watch you never settle down and live your days happily on the decks of a ship. I would know the peace of not doing anything for any reason besides wanting to. When I wanted to be especially cruel to myself, I would imagine my fool besides me for all of it.
I want to write more, I want to divulge every piece of my soul to you so that you can keep me alive when I'm gone. I don’t want to die, Jek. I want to spend forever sleeping on the open decks of Paragon with you or sitting in my shop, carving beads as you chat up the copper worker next door. There are so many moments I wish I could sink into instead of facing what comes next. This is a selfish letter to send to a friend, but I hope you can indulge me.
Maybe when I leave this world, all that's left for me is my memories of my life to relieve. If so, thank you for giving me so many good ones. I look forward to seeing your face again, however Sa deems it to be. May we meet again when your journey is over, and please don't rush; wrinkles will look good on you.
With all my love,
Amber