Sinia,

I am not one for endearments, and your name is suitably short that an abbreviation isn’t necessary. While I was tempted to begin this note by calling you my sweet butterfly, I resisted it because it sounded silly even to me. One cannot improve on perfection. My attempt at gallantry has probably failed.

Not only is your penmanship exemplary, but your art is equally impressive. Sadly, my gifts tend to be in the battlefield or across a Wizr board. You did promise me a match, you may recall, if I brought the set.

Since our departure, I have spoken to the court historian at Kingfountain. I suspect you may already know that, so I struggle how to write this without coming across as overly apprehensive. He related to me certain legends. One regards the imprisonment of a famous Wizr. Another story he told me was about a race of water sprites and one of their daughters. Her name was rather similar to yours—Peisinia. There are certain things I have noticed about you that give me questions I cannot answer. I will speak more freely when we next meet. Until then, I am ever your rough soldier and erstwhile intemperate friend.

Owen