Post by Nasrin on Feb 24, 2008 18:50:57 GMT -5
(First in a series of letters exchanged between Nasrin and her mother, Sibongale.)
To my Dearest Mother,
It is with the deepest apologies that I pen this message, for I know it has been too long in coming, and you bid me write immediately upon my arrival to the Weyr. I hope you and my father are well, that these words find you happy and healthy, and not too concerned for the welfare of your absent daughter.
I have been treated, for the most part, with the utmost courtesy by those who reside within the mountain. There is no shortage of familiar faces, for as you know the Weyr has drawn a number of its candidates from among our Hold, and I have been greeted warmly by those who recognize me. Thus far, I have done as you instructed in all things and have come to no mishaps in my short time here; this is a trend I hope to continue, for I would not wish my conduct to reflect poorly on yourself and those we serve. Your instructions were wise and I will continue to follow them to the letter.
Eventually, I would like to record all of my impressions of this place, and the people who live within it, but find myself still too overwhelmed by the change to summon the necessary words. Those not from the Hold are like us but different, just as the walls that surround me now are like ours but different. In my next letter to you, Mother, I promise that I will make more of an effort to translate the experience of being here for you, that you may share it with me.
You will know that the fisherman Chaldais accompanied me to the Weyr, having been selected by the dragon sent to relay me here—that he said yes to its demands was as surprising to me as its strange attention to him. While I can only confess that it is a glad thing, to have so dear a friend beside me while I await the uncertain outcome of this enterprise, I must also share that the sudden relocation of both of our persons seems to have had some effect on his feelings towards me. I have not yet had the opportunity to question him on this shift but will seek that conversation soon, as it makes for uneasiness between us and this I cannot bear. Perhaps, Mother, you might have some advice for your daughter in this matter. I am afraid that my poor wits have been no match for such a situation.
The glows grow dim and the hide short, leaving me no choice but to end here. My love to you, Mother, and to Father as well. Do write back soon, that I do not grow homesick, though I am reminded with every breath and every glance around me that I am indeed far from home.
Your Most Obd’t Daughter, Nasrin
To my Dearest Mother,
It is with the deepest apologies that I pen this message, for I know it has been too long in coming, and you bid me write immediately upon my arrival to the Weyr. I hope you and my father are well, that these words find you happy and healthy, and not too concerned for the welfare of your absent daughter.
I have been treated, for the most part, with the utmost courtesy by those who reside within the mountain. There is no shortage of familiar faces, for as you know the Weyr has drawn a number of its candidates from among our Hold, and I have been greeted warmly by those who recognize me. Thus far, I have done as you instructed in all things and have come to no mishaps in my short time here; this is a trend I hope to continue, for I would not wish my conduct to reflect poorly on yourself and those we serve. Your instructions were wise and I will continue to follow them to the letter.
Eventually, I would like to record all of my impressions of this place, and the people who live within it, but find myself still too overwhelmed by the change to summon the necessary words. Those not from the Hold are like us but different, just as the walls that surround me now are like ours but different. In my next letter to you, Mother, I promise that I will make more of an effort to translate the experience of being here for you, that you may share it with me.
You will know that the fisherman Chaldais accompanied me to the Weyr, having been selected by the dragon sent to relay me here—that he said yes to its demands was as surprising to me as its strange attention to him. While I can only confess that it is a glad thing, to have so dear a friend beside me while I await the uncertain outcome of this enterprise, I must also share that the sudden relocation of both of our persons seems to have had some effect on his feelings towards me. I have not yet had the opportunity to question him on this shift but will seek that conversation soon, as it makes for uneasiness between us and this I cannot bear. Perhaps, Mother, you might have some advice for your daughter in this matter. I am afraid that my poor wits have been no match for such a situation.
The glows grow dim and the hide short, leaving me no choice but to end here. My love to you, Mother, and to Father as well. Do write back soon, that I do not grow homesick, though I am reminded with every breath and every glance around me that I am indeed far from home.
Your Most Obd’t Daughter, Nasrin
