Epistle VIII: Battle in the Dark
My beloved Éfhelìnye Kháwa Teîrtlhe Eilyorieyána Stèlyarel Eiyuláriye Kòkhafha Kheyòkhporii Khmelitóte Xhèyol Erstélar Asteranása Áxhneyeméxhe Qhòyeil Eiyàsqrii Éfha Qwasáta Tsetseîlwa
I thank you very for your letter. It has been very dark here. The battles have not been going well. We have lost many men. I have read your letter at least seven times, and have kept it folded up and close to my heart. Since I have reread your earlier epistles, I think I understand a little more what you mean in your charts on the sound of language. Even though I have attempted to speak, I still cannot say a single word. But please do not stop sending me more epistles about talking, for sometimes when the skies darken and the fleets become entrapped at the edge of the abyss, the letters you have sent me are the only happiness I have. I cannot tell you, whether in the mews of the language of beasts or in the words of the tounge of man how much I miss you, and if I never again say a word, at least I can understand why Babel is written the way it is with all these endings and forms and cases which have always seemed very alien unto me.
Fhermáta, thank you for the calligraphy you sent me. My heart is warmed to know that you are taking care of our family. Siêthiyal, I gave your note to our illustrious peiratical Uncles Fhèrkifher and Xhnófho, and they promised me that they would find some dancing shoon for you. I hope to return before the Qanistókhikhu festival, but if you intend to dance there I shall ask the priests to forbid any young men from attending. Karuláta, thank you for copying out the divine Princess’ letters so that both she and I may have a copy. Please greet honored Khwofheîlya and Qtìmine with a kiss, and the Lady Regent Khnoqwísi as well.
My Princess, I look froward to hearing more about what you have to teach me about Language. It grows very dark and cold here, but one day we shall be reunited again. Puey
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