I write to you this day to express my sincerest sympathy for the tragedy I have recently learned befell you. I would have communicated this support much sooner, but the news just reached me by word from our mutual acquaintance, Osias Laedon. I will not reprove you for the neglect in communication. The news was sorrowful indeed and now is hardly the time for reproach. And I feel far too much anguish for your misfortune to harbor any enmity.
My dear friend, I cannot presume to offer words of consolation that will heal your pain, but please accept my sympathies and counsel nonetheless.
Osias tells me that he was in Pairlu for a period of two weeks, during which time he witnessed you eat only once. As you know very well, Osias has never been a man of embellishment, and so this news concerned me. Think then, of how much more concerned I became when he proceeded to inform me of your present appearance... That you have become frail, you rarely sleep, and say few words to anyone. He assures me that you have not become a hermit, that you still accept company graciously, but your depression certainly runs deep.
Selucian, your mind has always been something of wonder and envy among more than just I. But Osias has expressed unease in reference to your current state of mind. You have been an influence in too many lives, and have been too great a legend to allow all that to collapse now. Do not depart like this, old friend. Please do not allow yourself to sink into your despair, especially after all that you have discovered and conquered. For our world to witness the disintegration of a mind which previously had been an icon of strength and self control... well, that would be a calamity. It would be a devastating example of failure and defeat. Who would persevere afterward, when they compare their situation with yours and say to themselves, "Surely I cannot if the august Selucian could not."
Forgive my harshness, dear friend. I weep at the thought of the pain my words will bring you. But I fear if no one counsels with you thus, that we will soon lose you. And I would rather seek you to repair our friendship, than seek you... and find you not at all.
Selucian, as you are aware, I never had the opportunity to meet your late wife, Essysne. I am sorry for that. It saddens me that I was too preoccupied with my studies here in Naavrus that I postponed such a meeting. Your communications, and the talk of others, have made it clear in my mind that you regarded her highly. I trust your judgement more than any other, and so I have no doubt that she was truly remarkable. She will be missed by many more than you. Fear not that her name will be forgotten. This knowledge will not lessen your grief, I am sure, but perhaps it will add comfort.
The circumstances of your Cherished are still unclear to me, but I will not request a recount until a time when you are ready. Though, without a full knowledge it is impossible to know whether or not some of my words have been taken with offense. I ask forgiveness now, for my ignorance and any words which were taken without appreciation...
(Scribe's Notation: The complimentary close and signature were indecipherable due to water damage occuring sometime during the years that Selucian Dantares kept the letter in his possession. But it is believed that this communication was sent from Dedalus Hespiiro, Master Astronomer and lifelong friend to Master Selucian. This determination was made approximately one century ago here within the College of History in Pairlu. ~Malien Waleran)
