Letters to Molly (4th Entry)

This place is so beautiful and relaxing.

This was the first time in a while that I got up early, almost before the rest of the group got up, because of my lessons with Gam. I’ve been spending a lot of time with her trying to figure out this spell primer thing, but lately it’s just been getting more and more difficult.

I was working today, and nothing was clicking. Even some of the stuff I had been able to do wasn’t working, some of the signs I couldn’t even read today. I didn’t know what it was, and it was just getting more and more frustrating as the day went on. Gam, apparently realizing this, stopped our lesson after only an hour and told me to put the book away for now, and instead to just talk. I insisted that we should continue, but she would have no part of it, instead telling me that there was too much clouding my mind, and I needed to free up space to think and to absorb.

It must have been obvious to her. You know I’ve never been that good at holding back when something is bothering me, and I even think she knew what it was. Instead of longing for the magic and the knowledge, I was instead longing for something else. I tried to dance around the subject, telling her that I hadn’t slept well (which was true), and that I was getting a bit homesick, but she shook her head and told me to tell her what was really on my mind. What was stopping me from truly focusing on my work.

I miss you.

The old woman shook her head with a slight grin, then told me to leave and head northeast a way out of the town. Going to gather my things, she stopped me and instructed that I didn’t need any of that where I was going, instead telling me to just go as I was. Apparently I had enough burden on my mind that was weighing me down. She told me to leave everything with her, and if the group came looking for me, she would direct them to where I was.

So I left everything, as I was told. My weapon, my bags, my radio, everything. She even told me to leave Gena and my dice there. I don’t really like walking around without my water bottle, but she also told me that I wouldn’t be needing that either. Another connection to my home that I needed to let go for now. I needed to be by myself apparently, just me and my thoughts.

And this journal.

I’m not sure if she knew I carried this with me, but she didn’t call me on it, so I’m taking advantage of it.

I walked out of town in the direction she pointed, ducking under the trees and brush the wilderness had to offer me. It reminded me of the time we went hiking up in New Hampshire. The path was sloped slightly upward, with a few steep spots that required a bit of a climb, but after probably 45 minutes of walking (I’m not really sure how far I walked out, I didn’t have a watch with me either) before me was a crystal clear lake. The water looked like it didn’t have any resistance at all, I could look down into it and see sand. It was certainly never touch by human hands.

So I sat down and just looked out into it. Just started to think about where I was and what I was really missing back home. I admit that sometimes I get lost in this place. The magic and the different races and the excitement of being out and exploring the world, hell… the universe? Multiverse? I don’t even know WHAT I’m exploring.

But I’m scared. I don’t know how to get home. I don’t have an end date anymore. What started as a few day journey into what was supposed to be an empty site, has now become almost a two week journey into a comfortable hell. I’ve been shot at, I’ve seen someone get shot, I’ve run from someone who wanted to kill me, I’ve been woken up by the sound of large wildlife who wanted to eat my throat, I’ve climbed up a mountain and had to talk down my commander against us freezing to death, I’ve come close to tasting hypothermia…

…All of this, and I don’t know how to get home. There is no portal, there is no train, there is no plane, there isn’t even a path that I could start a 30 year walk on! I’m stuck, and there is no way to get home. There is no way to get back to my family and my friends and…


Shit, I can’t even get a message to you to tell you I am alive, and I’m doing well, and that I love you. I can’t wish you goodnight, or ask how your day was, or how your cats are faring. I can’t… do anything. All I can do is talk to you though this book. This little piece of paper and leather! There is no pulse, there is no warmth, there is no words, there is no love. It’s just a journal! It’s a book! It’s something that is used to hold notes and thoughts and here I am honestly thinking that I am writing in this, and you can hear me! That you can somehow see these words, or hear my thoughts and know that you are constantly on my mind…

…I don’t know if I can do this. I’m not trained for things like this. I’m not a strong person. I’m not a warrior, who can laugh in the face of danger. I’m not a leader, who has been trained to separate their own desires for those he leads. I’m not even that smart! All I am doing here is practicing in a little book, thinking that one day I’m going to be able to do magic.

…Magic! What makes me think I can do magic? What makes me think that one day I’ll be able to wave my hands in the air and scream “Alakazam!” and poof! A fireball erupts from my hand and slays my enemies? That doesn’t exist!

And yet here I am talking to you through a book. Here I am believing in my heart of hearts that you are hearing my voice and feeling my love though papers and ink. Thinking that one day I am going to return home to you.

…This IS hell… isn’t it?



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