<html> <head> <style> .hmmessage P { margin:0px; padding:0px } body.hmmessage { FONT-SIZE: 10pt; FONT-FAMILY:Tahoma } </style> </head> <body class='hmmessage'><div style="text-align: left;"><div style="text-align: left;"> Please let me know if the formatting on this is looking weird for anybody.  I can repost in plain text if someone needs it.  Enjoy! </div> William and Emily<o:p></o:p> Part Two: Letters <o:p> </o:p> <o:p> </o:p> December 3, 704 CR <o:p> </o:p> Sweet Emily, <o:p> </o:p> The snow is really piling up here, and it feels nice to sit before a fire in the big house instead of the crowded woodshop like I have all summer.  Mum, Dad, and Mikey are still there a few days out of the week, however, working on a large order for some Lord, or somebody.  Marcus is with me here at the house, experimenting in the kitchen with some fish Mikey caught yesterday.  The smell is making my stomach growl. <o:p> </o:p> Yule is coming up.  Do you and your family have any big plans?  I think Marcus is working on some big feast.  Unfortunately, we have no relatives nearby with which to spend the Holiday.  Though we usually make a good time of it by ourselves, staying up late and playing cards or singing carols.  <o:p> </o:p> The moon is out, and you can see all the way across the valley.  It’s gorgeous!  I wish you could see it, too!  If I was a painter, I would record the scene for you.  It looks like I may be stuck here a couple days with Marcus.  I think there’s some wood out back.  Got any ideas for a carving? <o:p> </o:p> Anyway, Marcus is saying supper is ready.  I’m not sure when I can mail this, but hopefully within the next few days.  Take care! <o:p> </o:p> -William Hall <o:p> </o:p> ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- <o:p> </o:p> December 21, 704 CR <o:p> </o:p> Dearest William, <o:p> </o:p> It’s almost the Yule Holiday!  I can’t wait.  Papa’s brother and my cousin, Anna, have spent nearly a month traveling from Marigund to stay with us.  Arthur, my uncle, says there’s some trouble nearby, and they felt it best to leave town for awhile. <o:p> </o:p> I am happy because I finally have someone to play with! <o:p> </o:p> I told Anna all about you and Metamor and all the wonderful things I saw there.  She didn’t believe a word of it, I suspect.  I showed her the wooden fox you made me, and that almost convinced her.  I think a good idea for a carving would be a fox in Father Yule’s costume.  What do you think?  <o:p> </o:p> Your last letter took more than a week to arrive.  I’m afraid the snow is making it hard for the Postman.  How cold of a job would that be?  I haven’t been out of my coat in a week!  How about you?  Do you even get cold with all that fur? <o:p> </o:p> Are the winters long in Metamor?  The snow takes months to melt here off of the mountains.  I’ll bet it’s beautiful up there in the winter.  Does your family still stay at the woodshop a lot during the winter months, or do you all mostly keep to the house in Ellingham?  I hope Papa lets me visit you there next summer when we go back.  From what you’ve said of the house, it sounds nice! <o:p> </o:p> Well, it’s getting late, and Papa is riding into Leilwahl to buy some groceries in the morning.  Hopefully when I visit the Postman to drop off this letter, there will be one from you waiting. <o:p> </o:p> Have a merry Yule!   <o:p> </o:p> -Emily <o:p> </o:p>                                 --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- <o:p> </o:p>                 William laughed as he stood back to admire the figurine he had just finished.  The fox pup, standing up on his hind legs, was almost drowning in the big cap, huge coat, and enormous boots of Father Yule.  All that could be seen of the poor pup’s face was his nose and whiskers poking out from under the cap.                  It had taken William almost three days to complete, and he knew it was his most detailed piece yet.  He looked out the large front window over the village of Ellingham.  It was the new year, 705 CR, and a fresh blanket of snow lay over the town, smoke curling lazily up into the night air from each cottage.  His parents and brother were once again at Metamor, working in the woodshop, but it seemed this would be their last trip before spring.  Though William appreciated the quiet and the time to work on his sculpting, he and Marcus were running out of things to talk about.                 Taking another hard look at the figurine, he suddenly thought it needed something else: color.  Could he do that?  He had used an almost white pine for it, and had planned on staining it later.                 He had to try.                 William took a seat on the sofa near the window.  He could feel the chill of the winter night coming through the glass, despite his thicker winter coat, and he pulled his big tail up into his lap to help keep him warm.  Closing his eyes, he carefully ran his fingers over the figurine, sensing the wood itself, and not the details he had carved into it.                 Instead of shaping the wood, he thought of coloring it.  Not a simple stain or paint, however; he pictured the fibers in his mind changing color, like wood from different trees varied in color, only he pictured every color in the rainbow.  Energy pooled in his fingertips and he felt the wooden figurine grow warm.                 Opening his eyes, he fixed his attention on the cap, experimentally running a fingertip over the wood.  Almost unexpectedly, the wood turned a bright red underneath.  Smiling with satisfaction, he continued over the cap, the wood reddening beneath his touch.  The trim he made white, as well as the ball on the tip of the cap.  Then, with the same finger, he painted some shadows into the creases.  Imaging now a more delicate hue, he added highlights on the upper surfaces.  Just like his carving, the painting was too detailed for him to ever manage with a brush.                 When the cap was finished, he inspected the wood closely.  With his ears perked and tongue twisted in concentration, he pushed a fingertip into the wood as if it were bread dough, pushing it to the side so he could see deep into the wood.  Amazingly, the grain throughout had changed color, becoming a mixture of all the shades of red he had used to darken and highlight the cap.                 He smiled broadly and threw a fist into the air in celebration.  There would be no sleep for him tonight. <o:p> </o:p> <o:p> </o:p>                                                 ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- <o:p> </o:p> February 15, 705 CR <o:p> </o:p>                                                 Sweet Emily, <o:p> </o:p> I took your suggestion to heart and probably a bit beyond, but it gave me something to do as the winter here has been harsh.  Not only did I do the fox in Father Yule’s costume, but I have a whole set!  I want to give them to you, so you and your family can have them for next winter, but I am afraid to ship them.  Perhaps when you come this summer you can take them home with you. <o:p> </o:p> How are your uncle and cousin?  Do they plan on staying through the summer?  I would like to meet them if possible, as well as your mother and little brother. <o:p> </o:p> In regards to your question in your last letter from January, I think I have finally adjusted to what the Curse has done to me.  The face I see in the mirror no longer shocks me like it did.  Sometimes, I don’t even remember what I looked like before—I simply brush my hair and clean my teeth without thinking about it.  <o:p> </o:p> And, yes!  You wouldn’t believe how many times I’ve slammed my tail in a door. <o:p> </o:p> Am I happy this way?  I have to say that my happiness comes from my good family, our work, and our home.  But I do suspect that if the Curse had made me something frightful, or something that would prevent me from carving, I would be less content.  <o:p> </o:p> Sometimes I wish that the Curse had simply made me a girl.  Now, before you think that is a strange wish, I’d like to point out that me and Mikey are stuck here at Metamor.  My parents, still human as ever, may travel and go where they please.  Even Marcus could leave if he wished, though the sight of a teenage boy traveling the road alone may raise some brows. <o:p> </o:p> Besides, if you had met me as a young girl, don’t you think we’d be better friends?  I could actually go to Leilwahl to visit.  As it stands, you must come here, and cannot stay longer than a few days. <o:p> </o:p> That is the extent of my regret in regards to the Curse. <o:p> </o:p> Mikey, of course, loves what the Curse has done to him.  I think an otter fits his personality somehow, like it was meant to be.  He thinks I’m a bit wistful for dwelling on the southern road, and wonders what I would care to see beyond what we have here.  Sometimes I think about that.  What do I wish to see or experience out in the world?  I have everything here I could need, and so much more. <o:p> </o:p> But I always come up with the same answer.  If given the chance, I would hit the road and wander far.  I have considered attending art school in Elvquelin.  Maybe someday in the future it will be possible for a person like me to travel unmolested around the Midlands, but I’ll be too old by then, I think. <o:p> </o:p> You, on the other hand, can go wherever you please.  And if you do, be sure to tell me about the places you visit. <o:p> </o:p> Here’s looking forward to summer! <o:p> </o:p> -William Hall <o:p> </o:p> ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- <o:p> </o:p> <o:p> </o:p>                 Emily read through the letter a second time, savoring every word.  She loved having a pen-pal and hearing stories from another land, and sharing her hopes and frustrations.  She finally felt she had something to look forward to every now and then.  For once, she could name her best friend.                 She folded the letter carefully into a drawer and wandered into the kitchen. “Papa, is it true that a man from Metamor cannot travel outside the valley?”             Douglas paused from his cutting, placing the knife down and stacking the potato slices.  “You mean someone that’s an animal, like your friend William?”  Emily nodded. “I’m not sure Emily,” he said, looking down at his daughter.  “I don’t know if anyone has ever tried.” “Do you think it would be possible for someone like him to visit us here?” she asked.  She grabbed the knife and finished cutting the potato that her father had left. Douglas sighed, folding his arms across his chest.  “You know most people, even here, close to Metamor, have little idea about the place.” “I know.” “Why would you ask such a thing, anyway?” “Because.  William wrote to me that he wishes to travel.” Douglas let out a quiet chuckle.  “Don’t all boys at that age!  You know, when I was fourteen, I wished to be a sailor.” “You!?  A sailor?”  Emily couldn’t believe it.  Somewhere from within the pantry, Tamera was laughing. “Aye.  Granted, I’m scared to death of water, and I get sea-sick easily.  But all boys wish for some adventure before they have to grow up.” “But he won’t ever have the chance, will he?” Douglas knelt down to where he was eye-level with his daughter.  “Many people don’t get the chance, sweetheart.  Usually it’s because of poverty or infirmity, but that’s just how the world is.  We eventually temper our dreams and learn to be happy with reality.  William will, too.”  <o:p> </o:p> *             *             * <o:p> </o:p> August, 705 CR<o:p></o:p> <o:p> </o:p>                 Emily’s excitement about visiting Metamor this year centered on one thing.                 No sooner had her father got his potato bushels set up, than she was nearly running down the street, dodging through the crowded thoroughfare to the small, nondescript woodshop.  She knocked on the door, fussing with her long hair so it was straight.                 William opened the door.  He was so tall!  Emily had grown in the last year, but he had gained more than she expected.  Though the hours they had been together last summer could be counted on one hand, she felt she knew him very well, thanks to the many letters they had exchanged.                  He smiled wide, instantly recognizing her.  They both paused for a moment, then hugged in greeting.                  For a thirteen year-old girl, Emily sure felt her heart was fluttering entirely too much.                 William immediately noticed how much younger she seemed compared to him this year.                 “So, how have you been?” he asked, sounding a bit awkward.  After all their letters, it was odd to be speaking with her face-to-face.                 “Good.  You?”                 “I’ve been good, thanks.”                 They both fell silent.  Emily had kept a hold of his hand after the embrace.  He decided he liked the feel of her smooth fingers.                 Emily laughed nervously, breaking the silence.  “My father gave me the entire afternoon, after much whining and begging.”                 “I’m sure you really gave it to him!” William said, chuckling.                 She hit his arm, quite unexpectedly.  Where had that come from?  “Well, it was the only way to convince him to let me go.  I had to tell him where your shop was so he could come looking for me.”                 William’s tail started to wag and he smiled.  Emily watched the tail with fascination, giggling.  “I’ve got a better idea than staying around this dusty old shop.”                 “What is it?” she asked.  William stepped out through the door into the street, closing it behind him.  He tightened his grip on her hand.                  “Follow me!  It’ll be a surprise.” <o:p> </o:p>                 They left the Keep through the main gate and circled around, following a well-worn trail into the woods.  Soon, they took several turns until they were practically walking through the underbrush, climbing some foothills and penetrating deeper into the woods.  After nearly an hour of hiking, they descended a ridge to a rather large creek in a deep canyon.  A game trail ran alongside.                 “This is beautiful!” Emily said, looking up and down the creek, then overhead at the towering mountains.  The smell of pine was invigorating, and colorful wildflowers were everywhere.  “I haven’t been hiking in the woods above our farm in a long time.”                 “I try to get out when I can,” said William.  “It gives me inspiration for my art.”                 “I can see how it would.”  William took hold of her hand and led her along the game trail, following the creek upstream.  They rounded a bend in the canyon, the ground beneath their feet becoming smooth granite.  The creek’s waters spilled and pooled in various spots over the rock, and they played, jumping over the smaller streams that were separated from the main flow.                 Soon, the rock leveled out and they came up to a lake.  The water was a deep blue, still as glass, shielded from the wind by tall cliffs on nearly every side.                 “Mikey likes to come here and fish.  This is my favorite swimming hole.”                 “Looks cold!” Emily said.  She knelt and put her hands in the water.  It wasn’t as bad as she expected.  It would probably feel welcoming on a hot day like this.                 When she looked up, William was pulling his shirt over his head.  Not only was he taller than last summer, but he wasn’t so scrawny, either.  Beneath his short red and white fur, he had a bit of muscle tone.                  He really was a handsome boy, she admitted to herself.  She caught herself staring before he noticed, and quickly turned away.                 “Mind if I take a quick swim?” he asked her, standing in only his trousers.                 “No, go ahead!  I’m thinking I may just join you.”                 “Oh really?  In a dress?”  William chuckled, testing the water with his toes.                 “Of course not!” she said, lifting her skirt a bit, revealing short leggings.  “I had a thought you might drag me off into the woods today!”  She continued to pull the dress up and over her head, tossing it on a rock next to William’s shirt.  Underneath, she was wearing the short-leggings and a short-sleeved shirt.                 “Wow, I’m impressed.  You came prepared, didn’t you?”                 “After all your talk of your races with Mikey, I figured we would end up here.”  She bent and untied her boots, stepping out of them and gingerly wading into the cool water.                 William followed, laughing as he watched Emily hesitate with each step and gasp as she got progressively deeper in the water.  “You know, it’s much easier if you just do it all at once.”                 “I think not!  I’m content with taking my time, you crazy fox.”  Another couple steps and she was up to her waist, looking like she was reconsidering going further.                 Without warning, William pounced, wrapping his arms around her and pushing her down beneath the surface.  Oh, how she fought!  In an instant, she was back above the water, shrieking and gasping for breath.  Her wet hair plastered over her face and she pulled it away.                 “William!” she shouted.  “Boys!”  William poked his head up out of the water a few feet away, flicking his ears to get the water out of them.  He laughed heartily, brow furrowed and a wide grin spread across his muzzle.  The grin was infectious, and Emily couldn’t help but smile.                 However, she wasted no time in splashing water at him.  A battle ensued, and when they were tired out, they spent the mid-afternoon hours floating in the cool water, usually holding hands or tickling each others’ toes, talking about nothing in particular.                 The day wore on, and they lost track of time. <o:p> </o:p> *             *             * <o:p> </o:p>                 Douglas was not very pleased with his daughter’s arrival just as the market closed.  He had most of the remaining potatoes packed up in the wagon already by the time she came around the corner, her dress dirty and her hair wet.  She said nothing, but went straight to work hefting the remaining bushels into the wagon.                 Douglas let out an audible sigh, obviously displeased, but he fought back the urge to ask where she’d been and why she’d been gone so long.  These moments of childhood adventure were rare in his daughter’s life.  He took a few breaths to calm his nerves.                 “I was beginning to worry,” was all he said.                 “I’m sorry, Papa.  I lost track of time.”                 “Fair enough.  But you know it’s not proper for a young girl to run off into the woods like that with someone you hardly know.”                 “But William’s a….”                 “No ‘buts’.  I just want you to be careful, understood?  There are also dangers in the woods.”                 “I know, Papa.”                 “Alright.  Can you stay close tomorrow?”  “We won’t leave the Keep, I promise!” “That’s my girl.”  He ruffled his daughter’s wet hair.  “So, did you two have fun?” <o:p> </o:p> *             *             * <o:p> </o:p>                 Sadly, Emily’s last day at Metamor came all too soon.  She went to the Halls’ woodshop to say goodbye to William.  With that captivating smile of his, and that big tail Emily loved so much wagging, he pulled the figurine of the fox pup out from behind his back, presenting it to her.                 It was incredible.  She couldn’t believe it, nor thank him enough for the gift.                 Their goodbye embrace lasted much longer than either of them expected.  Emily buried her nose in the fur on his neck, taking in his scent.  William kissed her cheek.                 Saying goodbye for another whole year tore at both their hearts.                 But, at least, they could look forward to their letters. </div> <hr />Climb to the top of the charts! 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