Chapter Text
SACRED MUNICIPALITY OF DEMA UNITED VIALISTS
PERIMETER ESCAPEE
"Torchbearer"
08.004-7-LT
Torchbearer,
I realize it's been a significant period since I last wrote. Today was a bad day. The absence of anyone else around sparked that usual urge to confide in you. Nobody knows me like you do. And vice versa, I suppose.
So here we are, afraid of each other. Talking to each other. What does that say?
I'm tired of fighting the acid behind each word you write. It used to be the opposite, when I was harsh and you were soft.
Are you still soft, Torchbearer? Do you still smile with teeth in the mornings? Pat your stomach when you get hungry? You have made me softer over the years. Eased me from the sharp, youthful anger I used to carry around. Most of it, anyway.
There's only one photo of you in the files we have here, and in it you are frowning. It doesn't even look like you.
Tell me what you need. Clothes, medicine, food, anything. A confirmation of life would suffice.
Nova Bishop
N,
I'm alive and well.
We don't need anything. Maybe shoe glue? The rubber part of my boot has a crack in it that lets all the water in. Bottom of my socks keep getting wet, so I've been putting my bare feet in there instead which is just nasty.
Turns out, we have a new Bandito. I asked about you. I think the word she used was polite, so you were right. I am surprised. You were many things when you were Clancy, but polite was not one of them. Ha.
You mention things being the opposite of how they used to be. I can't begin to tell you how aware of this I already am.
Torchbearer
SACRED MUNICIPALITY OF DEMA UNITED VIALISTS
PERIMETER ESCAPEE
"Torchbearer"
08.004-7-LT
Torchbearer,
Inside the box you will find shoe glue, a new pair of boots, and a twelve pack of black socks. You were always a maniac for wearing white pairs. Do you still own the sheer sparkly ones, too? I just laughed out loud remembering those ridiculous things. Hm. Haven't laughed in a long, long time.
I have been undergoing a long-winded project trying to fix up the roads and perhaps introducing roundabouts. I feel old when it comes to work like this. Passion for city architecture is the stage one reaches right before Alzheimer's sets in.
I believe your new bandito was under the Bishop Ateles jurisdiction. That's a relief to hear, because her family was in a state of distress, thinking she had gone missing.
Polite is a strange word. Truthfully, I'm trying to be a good leader and the only real example of that I have is you. But unlike you, I lack the ability to be outgoing and personable, so my goal is to be somewhat pleasant. Not sure how successful I am with this. Still finding my footing. What did you do today?
Nova Bishop
N,
Thank you for the boots, they fit perfectly. And yes, I do still own the sheer socks.
Today I ate potato and carrot stew. Found myself by the river with Carver again. She asked me if I'd heard from you, and I told her no. Just that you send care packages at random. I'm not as good of a leader as you seem to think, I've been lying a lot recently, even to the people I'm closest to.
Every time I write to you I feel as though I'm entering some kind of confessional. We shouldn't be doing this, you know. Communicating. We're on opposite sides of this now.
Unless you want to come back. Do you?
I would have you, if you did. Always.
Torchbearer
SACRED MUNICIPALITY OF DEMA UNITED VIALISTS
PERIMETER ESCAPEE
"Torchbearer"
08.004-7-LT
Torchbearer,
No. I would only be replaced by someone worse.
I recognize we are, from a technical and political standpoint, foes. But this does not undo the decade of time we have spent attached at the hip.
I get sick thinking about someone taking my place in your cot, even though I won't be returning to it.
You are a great leader. Lying doesn't detract from that, especially in this situation. I can't imagine they would be happy if they knew we are whatever it is we are now. I lie to the Bishops about you constantly, and still they have begun to question my sympathies.
Sleep doesn't come easily to me on many nights. One of the few scenarios I conjure up to relax is one where I'm beating you senseless, and then tending to your wounds.
Upon opening the box, you will observe work gloves, a fire starter, and an axe.
Nova Bishop
N,
Wow! I'm glad I can still help you go to sleep somehow. Can't say I'm surprised; you always did say that both soreness and affection were referred to as tender.
Something worse has replaced you in my cot, which is nothingness. Nothing has replaced you.
I see dead animals and wonder if it was you. I drink from a canteen we used to share. I dunk my head in the icy river at night to wash you out of my brain. Nothing.
Tell me where your sympathies lie so I can go cradle them. They are in desperate need of nurturing.
Torchbearer