The Deep Vault
It is written in a scrawled shorthand, as if written by a child. The note looks old, it’s color of white has yellowed and the black ink has faded to a pale red. It looks as if the note has been read several times and it folds and unfolds easily.
“Alexi, in the two weeks I have spent here you have been a friend, and father, and brother to me, and have showed me that not all is lost on this blackened patch of earth that has been so slyly crafted to seem bright to the masses. I must leave now, to sharpen my skills. One day, we will meet again, but for now, I must learn, and in this ashen forest there are no tomes nor teachers from which to do so. I thank you for your kindness. In this sinking ship the gods have abandoned, kindness is rare. If there is one request I can humbly ask, it is that you do what you can to learn the secrets of this land. I will say no more, but know this friend: There is a massing darkness looming, and it is all connected. The buildings made of black, the constant fog, the new and exciting innovations…they are all strings on a web. I leave now, to learn to be strong enough to kill the spiders in whose nest we are trapped.”