Last session, Basile finally received a response from his brother after several months of adventuring. I now feel that I can share the first set of Basile’s letters that he has been sending in secret. Enjoy!
I’m sorry that I haven’t kept my promise. A lot has happened since the last time I wrote you…nine years ago? I won’t recap the last decade, but instead tell you the most important parts. I have limited writing space.
I had to take on a new identity (my third…fourth?) and
I’m no longer apprenticing under PythosI’ve left to be on the road to try and find another way to become immortal. I know that you don’t approve of this, but I don’t have any other choice. An oracle told me that I was destined to die.
Don’t give me the bullshit about how “everyone dies.” I know that, I do. But I’m not ready to die just yet. I have too much left to do. I must clear my name – our name. I need to find out what and who really killed dad. I need to break this damn curse.
Right, I never told you about the curse. It had happened right after I sent my last letter to you.
PythosWe had found an ancient spell that would grant me immortality if I siphoned my mortality into another being. It was an extremely dangerous spell that would certainly kill the patron who took on my weaknesses, but it was worth trying. I had just heard about the prophecy and I was terrified. You would be too knowing the end of your life was looming behind you.
So my mentor sent me to a town where he said I would be able to find the proper host.
You will hate me for this, I know you will.
I found a child.
He was abandoned in a pillaged town (no, not one that I destroyed) among the rubble. The moment I saw him I knew that he was the one. He was left behind to die just like I had been
, but instead of coming to the rescue like dad, I took him as my mortality’s surrogate. No one would miss him.
He wasn’t supposed to survive. It was supposed to save me. Instead, my very life force bonded to him. Now I’m cursed to protect this child, for if he dies, I do too.
The child knows nothing. He doesn’t know about my past or that I found him. He believes I’m his step-brother, tells strangers that I’m an imaginary friend as I continue to travel out of sight. They assume he’s touched in the head, so we’re safe for now.
This is why I stopped writing you. I was too terrified to tell you. How could I? I always promised that I wasn’t a monster, and yet I had tried to do the most evil act. Now I am paying for it. You don’t have to forgive my actions. I don’t deserve such luxuries, but I do hope that you write me back.
Anyways, he wants to become an adventurer so he can grow strong to protect me like how I’ve protected him for nearly ten years. I can’t say no to him. If I do, he punches himself in the face or stabs himself in the stomach. He feels no pain, but I feel every bit of it. Damn brat. He reminds me of how you used to bug J.
Because of his childish hopes and dreams, we are now traveling with a group of adventurers to a small town. I wish I could tell you where so we could meet, but I fear that if this letter falls into the wrong hands it would be the death of me.
I will write to you again soon, I promise. I will keep you informed on my misadventures as I try to achieve the many goals piling up on my shoulders.
Do write me back soon. Send that falcon of yours to track me down south. I am eager to hear how you have been.