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"Dear Audrey..."
In the dim room, Alfred wrote that first sentence, then wrote nothing more.
He stared at his younger sister's name for a long time. The rice-grain-sized flame of the oil lamp could not even fully illuminate his writing desk. The entire room was pitch-black, much like his mood of late.
"I've been through some battles on the Southern Continent. I suppose I've been fairly lucky. My worst injury only left me bedridden for a week, rather than missing parts of my body or losing my life like other soldiers."
"Thanks to my background and rank, the important people in the army treat me quite favorably. I even have my own room, my own desk, chair, and bed, as well as paper and a pen to write to you in my spare time."
Alfred's pen scratched across the paper. Beyond the wooden door separating his room from the outside, faint snores and quiet sobbing filled the corridor and everywhere else. Some people called out in their dreams to the family members most important to them.
The army quarters in Berens City had limited capacity, and the walls here offered no soundproofing at all. These jumbled sounds drifted around Alfred's ears, like countless vengeful Spirits and ghosts lingering here and whispering, always startling him awake from nightmares late at night.
He shook his head, swallowed back the many things he wanted to say, then exhaled at length, as though that could expel the unease and negative feelings in his heart as well.
"Dear Audrey, how have you been lately? You should be back in Backlund by now. Is the fog there still as bad? Heh, a new year's social season has begun, and our Miss Hall remains Backlund's most beautiful, dazzling jewel."
The pen tip swept briskly across the