Solo Brother Mine

[Ennisa]

29th Spring 520 AV
"speech"
"others"

It was late on the eve of her birthday, and Ennisa couldn't sleep. Dreams recently had been strange and fragmented, and she'd been tetchy all day because of an equally restless Fennor. Itzi had got so fed up with the sour mood that she'd left earlier in the evening to go drinking with an old childhood friend of theirs. Ennisa was pleased that Itzi was courageous enough to go out to the inn by herself, considering Clement, but she was a lot stronger than Ennisa gave her credit for.

Fennor gurgled and chewed his little fist, and for the gazillionth time that day, Ennisa moved his slimy, spittle-covered fist out of his mouth. "Would you stop it?" It was a rhetorical question; the kid didn't answer. She sighed, and smoothed her thumb over her forehead as she gently rocked Fennor's basket to keep him occupied. Briefly, she wondered whether he needed some kind of chew toy, but she was in no mood for motherhood's endless, tedious what-ifs and second-guessing tonight.

She was thinking of her brother. Something someone had said a few days ago at work had triggered a chain of thought that was plaguing her. She'd suddenly remembered when she'd had her fortune read by Dev'Ania, the idea she had proposed to reach out to her brother. At the time, the idea had been... nice. She'd never acted on it.

Now she wondered. Seth. What was he doing right now? It had been years since she'd spoken to him properly. Ennisa didn't visit home often, indeed she'd not seen her mother in a few years either, as she'd not parted on pleasant terms. Did Seth still live at home, or had he moved out as she had? Perhaps he was married, had a wife, children, career... She snorted softly at the thought of her kid brother, all tucked up in a nice cushty house, but the smirk fell from her lips as she started to remember the good times.

And they had been good. Laughter, running through the orchards and meadows on the Okomo Estate. The things they'd found together, the stars they'd counted, the pranks they'd pulling until they'd run away laughing like lunatics until her sides split. Childhood. Ennisa sighed softly, and moved to the desk beside the window. Outside, a clear moon hung high in the clear sky. Stars twinkled in a competing light display with Leth's clarifying light. Ennisa stared out the window, feeling sorry for herself, until an idea struck her.

Though she didn't know if she could see Seth again, not after the decline in their communications, perhaps just perhaps she could write to him instead. The idea struck a chord; she rummaged through the detritus on the desk until she'd found a sheet from her journal and ink and quill to write with. Yes, she could leave the letter with mum, who would be bound to know where and/or when she would see her beloved son again. She could leave a note saying where she lived now, and then Seth could reply to her.

Ennisa smoothed out the paper and carefully tore off one ragged corner to make the page a little more visually appealing. She dipped her quill in the ink pot and hovered it over the page. Dear Seth, she wrote, and then stopped. What was she going to say? Sorry it's been a while; how you doing? Words flicked through her head, and all of them seemed so shallow and inconsequential. She was trying to write to a stranger she'd once known like the back of her hand, and it was beyond strange.

"Hey Fennor, this is tricky, y'know?" She murmured under her breath at her baby son, who simply hiccuped once in response. What to write, what to write, she mused. Dear Seth. Long time, no see. This is Ennisa, your sister, if you remember. I hope you are well - I hope you are still causing mischief, like we did in the old days. She wrote, her quill scribbling faster and faster as she put her thoughts to paper.

WC: 682

[Ennisa]

"speech"
"others"

A lot has happened since we last spoke. I have a child now. He's called Fennor, but he isn't yet a year old. He is an interesting child, you could say. She laughed quietly, and looked at her son. 'Interesting' was the word, yes. Little Fennor, his eyelids beginning to droop under the effect of the rocking basket, burped with a cute pock!, which briefly startled him to awareness, before sleep washed over him again like a gentle tide. She scratched her head with the end of her pen, and mused over how to phrase her letter.

I'm now living with my friend Itzi. We share a small room at the Solar Wind. It isn't lavish, but it is fun. What about you? I would like to know what it is you do now. Do you still live at home? Have you found someone yet? You always were the little romantic. Remember Petra, when you were about 7? How I made fun of you. Ennisa set down her pen, cast her mind back, and remembered.

Petra was a black-haired girl who Ennisa hated. This was perhaps because the upstart pipsqueak stole Seth's attention. Perhaps because she was pretty, and popular, and charismatic. Or perhaps it was a combination of all those things. Either way, Ennisa couldn't see eye to eye with her, even when they played together. Because she was younger, Ennisa found it almost natural to tease her. Whenever she saw her lurking around Seth and the two of them sharing soppy, shy grins, Ennisa never failed to laugh. Or throw bits of soil at them. Or push Petra over. Anything really to irk them.

Seth didn't take it too kindly, often wailing and whining the most annoying, "Whyyyy?", or retaliating with a weak punch or kick, to whcih Ennisa would always say, "Aw, just joking!", and would make laughter with Petra who would smile wanly in response. Petra likely knew the joke was at her expense, but being the diplomat she was, she would always tug Seth away and the two would go play somewhere else. This left Ennisa standing alone, her head boiling with childish rage that she wasn't invited to their game. Seth and Petra's little romance had died after a season or two for a reason Ennisa didn't know, but something had never been quite right afterwards between her and her brother.

Ennisa picked up the pen, with a strange feeling in her stomach. She realised that the feeling was guilt, plain and simple. Why? She'd just realised the reason Seth and Petra had broken up was probably her fault, at least partly. After all, she'd constantly harassed them both. Enough, probably, that Petra had decided that Seth wasn't worth being constantly bullied for.

She'd never thought of herself as a bully, and in general she would never have described herself so. Yet, thinking back to all those years ago with the raven-haired Petra, she recognised that was exactly what she was. She'd bullied Petra, and Seth had begrudged that. It was likely he still held onto that grudge. Gods. Ennisa groaned. What a petching idiot she'd been!

How I made fun of you. Well, Seth... I'm sorry. I never meant to push you and Petra apart, not really. I felt... Here she hastily crossed out the partial sentence she'd started. Too much emotion for this first letter, surely. Instead, she continued writing. I'm sorry for all the times I wound you up too much, and for the jokes which went too far. I didn't realise I was driving you away until you had already gone. Then for years I haven't cared about the fact we haven't spoken. For years I made my fun with my new friends. Now I miss you, and I wonder where you are, and what you're up to.

[Ennisa]

So, I would like to see you one day soon. We have a lot to catch up on. She hovered, her quill lightly resting in her relaxed hand as she stared at the jumbled letter she'd penned so far. Some words were scribbled out. Others peered out from underneath bent and bowed lines starkly. Sorry. Wrong.

It was uncharactaristic of her to admit she'd been wrong. She was aware of that, but somehow it felt right to admit it. Not easy, though. She looked at the letter, wondering whether she should rewrite it, or even just scrap it altogether. Her thoughts drifted, untethered for a while. Then she picked up the pen, having made up her mind what she wanted to do.


Ennisa wouldn't throw away the letter. She wouldn't change it, or rewrite it. She would just finish it and send it, despite its flaws. With a loop of her hand, she signed her name, taking care over the curls of the E in Ennisa.

Then she lifted the paper to her lips and gently blew across the surface to hasten the drying of the ink. It wasn't a slow process - Ennisa was just impatient. Once this was done she put her writing equipment away again and sat back in the chair. Seth. She thought, pensively. How will you have changed?

Yet she didn't idle for too long. She had somehow managed to tie up her thoughts in the letter, as if by writing them down she had extracted them from her head and anchored them. She could forget all about even having a brother by tomorrow. She sought around for another piece of paper to fashion and envelope, but couldn't find anything handy. Instead, she folded the paper so that the blank side faced outwards. A couple of strange yet mostly secure folds later, and she'd managed to secure the letter from opening, unless prised in the right place.

On the outside of the letter she wrote, To Seth, which she underlined with a quick slash. Finally, the roughly-created, instinctively written letter sat finished on the desk. Sometime in the next few days, she would take it to her childhood house and give it to her mom. Gela would be able to give the letter to her son. She would know what he was up to.

She sighed and stretched, feeling tired. Tomorrow was her birthday. Her birthday! A time of renewal and a time for refreshing oneself. That's what she believed a birthday was, as well as a time for a good party. That would be difficult now; Fennor agreed with a quiet cry, as if he has heard her very thoughts. The other thing though - renewal - yes, that was very likely. Change was on the air, she could feel it.