13:23 25/10/2020
We’re not strangers to each other’s shadows
To my dear…
In all honesty. I’ve got nothing. I’m writing to you with no specific idea in mind. All I’ve got for you is my will to write. And so, write I shall.
At the moment, I lay amongst the cushions at Octavious’ keep. Today it’s only Warren, Octavious, and myself. A quiet day. A slow day. A free day. One where the soldiers can recuperate and rest their feet. No marching today. No battle. No keeping alert. Just existence. And the slow natural recovery of our body, like seeds to sprout.
These are times I cherish. And with the best people to enjoy these times with too. Brothers. I sometimes forget the beauty of being with them. Most interactions with others involve etiquette. Etiquette. That thing… Even with those I’m already quite comfortable with, a slight dosage of etiquette must be brought to the table. Not that there’s anything wrong with that. As people of modern civilization, it’s part of our language. The act of etiquette is how we communicate with each other. It’s how we show the outside world that we are a species of growth, in control of our destructive animal nature. In control… That’s what it is. And that’s why it feels so laborious. This etiquette. It requires conscious effort. So even with those I am comfortable with, I can tell I still have to carry those stones.
But not today. Not with the brothers. Today, we are free. We don’t need to dance the strict steps of society today. We’ve already seen the worst of each other. The ugliness that the rest of the worlds dare not discover. The demons we’ve banished to the depths of hell. We’ve dined with those demons already. We’re not strangers to each other’s shadows. And so when we brothers sit together, the etiquette doesn’t need to sit with us. It’s always welcome to join us. But it knows it doesn’t need to. And with the free seats, the rest of us can kick up our feet.
That’s no different today. Today is an easy day. The calm after the storm. And with that I’ll end my letter, and enjoy the nothings ahead of me.
Love from yours truly.
Daniel Roy
Diaries of the Moonlight Hours 