There is a stench that hovers like a thick, wretched blanket above the waters of this city’s canals. It is far more than simply the foul scent of effluence. It is a never-ending reminder of captivity. It revolts me. Vomit and bile burn the back of my throat. It is an aggravation no amount of expectoration can assuage.
My pain is not a physical reaction to these brackish waters. My pain is more visceral and enduring. My pain is you, my love, recovering but broken upon a bed of stone. My pain comes from within me. It is my inability to function in this environment.
Despite our current lot I swear to you, one day you shall be a prince standing by my side in the Kingdom of Dunsany.
We are a powerful people. We are strong and we are proud. We are the übermensch destined to inherit the world. We are not meek. We are not humble. I speak not with Hubris but with Truth. From the ruins of this sad, petty land we shall rise.
Yet we were bred to follow order. There is a protocol to which we must adhere. A leader must carry us across the threshold before we can claim our destiny, however, it is that very issue of leadership that remains in question. Will we follow the father or will we follow the son?
The next two weeks should see some resolution. Whoever kills the the perpetrator of this egregious crime against you, dear Spurgan; whoever kills the rogue dunsany, Nefertiti, shall have my allegiance.
Yet regardless of who shall lead, it has become clear that we can no longer remain beneath the streets of men, sleeping beside rivers of waste, stealing food and living off the charity of children. It is time we returned to the deep caverns in which we were born, free to roam the ancient boulevards of a forgotten era. There we shall establish our kingdom and there we shall bide our time.