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[Ceinwyn ab'Arawn]

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Merci,

Ever since our conversation the other evening at the Mazewood tavern I have been plunged into a deep disturbing reflection and come to a most painful realization. Your insults and lightly veiled threats did not escape my notice, despite my continuance of polite and pleasant conversation. You seem to be of the very misguided notion that I would bring any of my son's people harm. Where ever you derived such an idea from is beyond me.

I have made several gestures of good will and friendship in the time since you followed my son north out of Umbran territory. I heard your mournful call and sent the Sepulcher stone out of the kindness of my own heart to ease your pain. I looked upon you both as a sister and as a daughter. There was a time I had envisioned my blood line continuing through a match between yourself and my son. I even trusted you enough to make you a matriarch alongside myself. A post that you abandoned for no given reason.

The very evening I was restored by our people to Umbra, you chose to announce your departure with my son. His leaving was something he and I had discussed on more than one occasion. It is expected for a son to leave his mother's wing and make a name for himself. You, however, I had counted on being at my side. In my infinite understanding of the depth of your feelings for my son, I forgave you.

You, who were supposed to have been in charge of reporting the party's progress northward, failed to do so at all costs. Each and every one of my inquiries about my son and grandchildren and the rest of the group's well-being was met with silence. Knowing my son is a very busy man, I was counting on you to keep me updated on such things, as you had promised me you would on the eve of your departure. From your silence, I could only assume at the time that you were busy or at worst, forgetful. As you often forgot to inform me of the goings-on of my realm during your time in my ranks, I had just accepted it as part of your nature.

More the fool I was.

To enlighten you, I have spoken with my son on more than one occasion since his departure northward and my time within the Order's ranks. He and I are on friendly terms and maintain a respectful relationship with each other, which you seem incapable of understanding. That you would presume to hint at knowing everything said between he and I is both arrogance and ignorance on your part. You are incapable of comprehending the reasoning within the mind of one of my blood. That you would further seek to sow doubt and distrust between my son and myself is disturbing beyond compare. You whom I had counted a sister, friend, and daughter. It eats at my heart the very idea that you would scheme so behind my back to distance my son from me.

Furthermore, you seem to think that my remaining in Umbra, the place I call home, is something that I ought to be ashamed of. The shame is on you, instead. You followed at my son's heels as he struck out on his own with all the adoration of a love-sick puppy and yet condemn me for remaining in Umbra with a male I find worth my time. A man whom I might add that has been trying to improve the relations between Umbra and Stonegate, despite your best efforts otherwise. Umbra is my home, as it will always be. I cannot expect you to understand such a sentiment, for all your claim of being an "oracle".

And even though I think it would fall on deaf ears and a true heart of ice, I will further state that I also suspect Myrddin's true grandfather is residing here in Umbra. A suspicion that I am sure you will also dutifully fail to relay to my son.

You, schemer and hypocrite that you are, condemn me for what? Killing innocent people? Have you forgotten all the sacrifices you offered in the halls of my Sepulcher? What makes you so much better than I? Your shouts that the Order will destroy the world are one-sided. You seem to have forgotten that your king is bonded with a Cabalist, whose very goal is to destroy the world. Will you take arms against Cear Dallben, as well? Somehow, I doubt it. You are the one parading around partnering with Sanctus, the very people that attacked you with blades when you were carrying children. Have you forgotten that as well? There was a time you would not even have considered hiring mercenaries. You who claim that I have forgotten the way things were, you who act as if I am changed or different. The only differences are within yourself. What will you do next, I wonder? Will you run about screaming "For the Virtues!"? At this point, I would not put it past you, dearest Merci. Most befitting of your former title, Warlord of Deceit.

To think that I trusted you for so many years sickens me. That I wasted my time and emotion, only to have you turn on me when it is convenient, truly wretched indeed. I don't even know why I am bothering to explain myself to you. Perhaps within me there lingers some misguided hope that I am wrong about you, though your words and actions prove otherwise.

Heed my words well, vile pretender, for if ever I hear word that you seek to betray or harm Myrddin, or if you continue to try to distance my son from me, your last name will indeed be fulfilled. There is no corner of existence that will hide you from my wrath, no measure of time that can protect you from what I will do to you if you betray him as you have done me.

And because I feel the need to clarify this further to your twisted mind, this letter is intended for you, and you alone. I have absolutely no issue with anyone else in my son's rule. Just you. Don't even bother sending a response, you have already made perfectly clear your feelings. As such, your precious Sepulcher stone is now devoid of its energy. Energy that was formerly supplied by me as a token of confidence and trust. Now it is nothing more than a rock, like your heart.

Remember this, you ungrateful marionette, you would be nothing if not for me and my son.

Ceinwyn

[Merci d'Rue]

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Merci looks over the letter and sets it carefully down. It does not phase her for at last Ceinwyn shows her true colors.

She tucks it safely away.

Confident in the people she loves and whom love her. She feels just a tad sorry for Ceinwyn that she has not what Merci has.

Well wishes on my wedding day Ceinwyn? She laughs and walks away. I havent time for traitors.

Forwards the letter to Myrddin, with a note. You have a real grandfather? What?
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May destiny guide you...