Kef,

Eighteen months have come and gone and I have left you peaceably by yourself, to learn of your new path, to grow into your mission, and pursue the goals we both share. When those months met their expiry date, instead of holding up to the end of your promise, you demonstrated that oaths are not meant to be upheld but to be broken instead, the solemnity of words and connections of the soul swiftly discarded when they turn into inconveniences.

It is said that the full measure of a person is only made manifest when the path grows tumultuous and fractious, and in its revelation you will know the importance of where you stand in their eyes. I had trusted what we had between us, and even in your continued profession of love, I am made to wonder if you ever did the same.

After all, our marriage, sworn upon blood, love, and commitment, has now become a victim to the many oaths you have brought to the pyre to burn. I draw inspiration from the namesake that was once cast upon Lord Bamathis, upon the God you once served, and here upon public boards I pronounce you for what you have shown you truly are: dirneti wo poye; oathbreaker, thrice-renewed.

You are no Tetzauh, for you took that surname from Nahuaque; you are no Ash'aji, for you took that surname from Cassomyr; and now you are no Arcan, for you took that surname from me.

I will leave you with our cherished memories of old Mara, however, and hope that your choice was worth its weight.

I am,
Elene Arcan

Penned by my hand on Kinsday, the 7th of Slyphian, in the year 11 AC.