A Letter for Seteth

Seteth,

By the time you read this, I will be gone. I cannot stand idle while the church does the things it does; causes the inequalities and warfare that it does.
Did you know that the church burns books? I learned that the other day. I do not know what books it burns. I never will. This is one of many doubts that has been brewing inside me for some time.
I am not the only one with these doubts, brother. You know this, likely better than I do. Lady Rhea is a 𝙩𝙮𝙧𝙖𝙣𝙩, and she grows madder with each passing day.
I do not know what these actions make me. If I’m a revolutionary taking a stand or a child acting out. But I can’t exist under these circumstances. I think I may snap.
I’m sick of it. I’m sick of the classes and the burning and the crests and I just wish I could earn my place in this world. I wish I didn’t get to live in the lap of luxury just because I’m related to you.
I beg of you, do not follow me. If I am incorrect in my defection, I will realize this and return eventually.
Where I am, I am safe. I am warm and I am okay. I am not alone.

I love you, goodbye,


𝒻𝓁𝒶𝓎𝓃.