I hardly know what to write. It has been a time of reaquaintance. It has been a time of unmeasured joy. It has been a time of ...almost shock. That dearest of ones is safe and well, soft and gentle, brave and true, and delivered to me by the kindness of a dear friend. I thought I should faint from shortness of breath so dizzy did I feel with all the delight in our time. A fire, warmth, stars, words, eyes, gentle touch, love, all melt in my eyes into one precious night.

I have seen my beloved guildmates - dear Bris looking so poised and with a fire in his eyes from training; the news of talking weapons in his ears.

And then there he was. As though he had never been away. Looking lean and honed and well in himself. My hunter in green, my babysitter, my dance teacher, my brother. He brought me tea, what else? Strong and pungeant, yet fragrant and refreshing. I was so rude - I spoke presuming that Bris and he knew each other. Has it really been so very long? Well, now they are met and all for the good. Had he seen the changes in the halls? He was disparaging as ever. When we have time to muse without that first flush of shock and recognition I will ask him if he dislikes my decorations in the House of Worship.

I asked who he had seen and dearest Purazon and Knight Azure were on his lips. Indeed, he had heard the most solemn and sorrowful of news from dearest Purazon and I confess my cowardly self was glad of it. I shrivel and shrink inside to think upon it still though I cannot let it show. To bring pain to others through that you feel yourself cannot be fair. I could see my even raising the subject had caused him discomfort. Gruffly he said yes, he had seen and knew the reason for our new memorial. I hope that at least does not feel too grand for him.

We teased each other. I in my presuming ants everywhere were running for their very lives and he in despairing of his sister - I can see that last time in the mountains as though it were just yesterday.

I do not know yet whether he ever received my letters. That perhaps is talk for another day.

Oh my dearest gods, beloved godesses, oh what things I have to be thankful for this day. And believe me, I am.