[sovietkitschy]

All is quiet in the Caewynn-Mellows home, a thin layer of dust that covers surfaces normally cluttered with the signs of life. A rarely used window (and less so now) slides open a crack and a soft spring breeze sneaks in, carrying a quiet and welcome intruder.

Upon the writing desk rests a thick sealed envelope, yellowed with age and adorned in a delicate, scrawling and familiar script.

Hello,

Or rather - goodbye, I imagine. If you are reading this letter, then Sarina and I have no doubt moved onwards to our next adventure. I hope we did not leave too much of a mess for our loved ones to tidy up!

As I write this, I am sitting at the kitchen table, watching Sarina try (and fail) to have the little ones eat their greens. She is making all sorts of bargains and and promises that she has no way to keep, and still they persist in their steadfast refusal. They are so very much like her.

The love in this moment feels boundless, and I hope beyond hope that the time that passes between the writing of this letter and the opening is vast - though a rumbling in my heart of hearts tells me it is unlikely.

It is a hard thing, to close a chapter you have lost yourself in. Harder still, sometimes, to open the next. But Sarina and I - we are nothing if not lovers of doing hard things, and so, ever forward we press.

You need not worry for the safety of our spirits. While the circumstance of our deaths are unknown to me, the certainty that we have left this realm together is assured. Sarina is very clever, and together we are very brave, so I have no doubt that we have already begun our next project in the cosmic scale of easing the burdens of the universe. We will miss you all terribly, but you do not need to cry for our sake. We are together. For eternity.

Now, on to the practical matters.

To our loved ones we leave our earthly remains. They are no more than meat now, and we have no use for them where we are. Lay us to rest for closure, dissect us for science, puppeteer us for the greater good - it matters not, so long as they are put to use.

To Izmael, I leave my heart, jarred or otherwise. Please do not use it to scare children.
To Zinnia, I leave my flower. I wish I had more to give you - in material and in time. I think I will miss our talks most of all. I hope when you gaze upon the petals, you remember that your softness is a strength.
To Fern, there is something that belongs to you in the chest in the bedroom. Please think of me often. I shall always think of you. 
Valdis, Thaliana - please work together to find our children a suitable home. Our only request is that it is a home that is steeped in love and understanding.
To the rest of those who touched our lives, whose lives we touched in return, we leave only memories. 

Be good to each other. Try to listen, to understand. Believe the best. And when that is not enough - fix it. However you can. If you wonder to yourself whether or not I cared for you? I did. I loved you. All of you.

Perhaps more time could be spent on this, an exhaustive list saying goodbye to every soul we cared for, a gift or word to each. But as I sit here, watching my soul ineffectively attempt to convince our children of the virtues of healthy eating, I cannot help but think that the time I spend preparing for my death is time rather wasted. There are strawberries in the larder that might tempt them to at least eat something fresh, there is a head of golden hair that needs a tender kiss of encouragement in the face of her greatest barrier yet, and today, I am alive.

I will waste no more time on my death.

Thoramir Caewynn-Mellows