The alliance flew south from the Northern ruins, leaving the ancient complex behind. Draven rode on Malvorn's broad back as wind rushed past and icefields stretched endlessly below—frozen wasteland beautiful in its desolation.
Hours had passed since retrieving the First Anchor. The triumph still warmed him, but now, with distance and quiet, other thoughts surfaced.
Mira.
His sister—not by blood, but by bond forged through shared suffering and freedom. She was with him alongside years ago, a frightened child who'd become family. Now she lived safely in Bloomring Covenant territory, helping build the nation they'd fought to create.
When had he last written to her?
Months, Draven realized with guilt.
"Malvorn, can we stop at the next town?" he asked through bond.
"Of course. Why?"
"I need to send a letter."
An hour later, a small town appeared on the horizon—one of the scattered settlements dotting the northern icefields. Hardy folk lived here, adapted to brutal cold, surviving through fishing ice-lakes and trading with southern territories.
The alliance descended carefully while avoiding alarming the townspeople. Overlords remained outside town limits—their presence would cause panic. Only Draven, Malvorn, and the pack entered, forms impressive but not overwhelming.
Citizens stared but didn't flee. Word of the Chain-Breaker had spread even this far north.
"I'll be quick," Draven promised while dismounting. "Just need to post a letter."
He found the town's small mailing outpost—a simple wooden building where messages were collected for southern delivery.
Inside, he requested parchment, ink, and quill.
Time to write.
Draven sat at the small wooden desk with quill in hand, thinking carefully before writing.
---
Dear Mira,
I'm sorry for the long silence—months have passed since my last message, and I know you worry. Distance makes writing difficult, but you're never far from my thoughts.
I'm currently in the northern icefields, far from Bloomring. The journey has taken me to places I never imagined—ancient ruins buried beneath frozen earth, structures built by beings who mastered dimensions themselves. I wish I could describe the beauty and strangeness adequately, but words feel insufficient.
I'm safe. Tired, but safe. That's what matters most, I think.
The alliance I've gathered continues to amaze me. Malvorn remains steady as ever—his presence keeps me grounded when the burden feels overwhelming. The pack grows stronger daily. And recently, three Overlords joined our cause willingly, pledging support for something greater than territorial disputes.
We've accomplished something significant recently. I can't share details—not because I don't trust you, but because the knowledge could endanger you if it spread. Just know that we've taken an important step toward the goal we've been working toward. Progress, real and tangible.
The path ahead remains long and uncertain. There's so much still to do, so many challenges waiting. But for the first time in months, I feel genuine hope. What we're attempting might actually succeed. The world we've dreamed of—where beasts and people live freely, where chains are only history—it's possible, Mira. Truly possible.
How are you? I think about you often—wonder if you're eating enough, sleeping well, staying out of trouble. (Knowing you, probably not the last one. You always were braver than you should be.)
I'm so proud of you, Mira. You've taken everything we suffered through and transformed it into purpose. The work you're doing to help the Covenant grow—building a nation from nothing, creating home for those who've never had one—it matters more than any battle I'll ever fight.
Please take care of yourself. Don't work so hard you forget to rest. You're still young—let yourself be fourteen sometimes, not just a builder of nations.
The Covenant is lucky to have you. I'm lucky to have you.
I'll write again when I can. Until then, know that I'm thinking of you, proud of you, and working toward the day we can stand together in the world we're building.
With love always,
Draven
---
Draven read the letter once more while checking for anything that might endanger Mira if intercepted. Vague enough about Anchors, specific enough about care. Satisfied, he folded the parchment carefully while sealing it with wax.
The postal clerk—an elderly woman with weathered face—accepted the letter and payment without comment. She'd seen stranger things than the Chain-Breaker posting mail.
"Southern delivery to Bloomring Covenant territory," Draven specified. "Addressed to Mira. She works with the Covenant directly—the message will find her."
The clerk nodded while placing the letter in the outgoing collection. "Three weeks minimum. Northern routes are slow this season."
"That's fine," Draven said quietly. "Just make sure it reaches her safely."
"Will do, sir."
Draven stepped outside as afternoon sun reflected off endless ice. Malvorn waited patiently with massive form relaxed and bond humming with quiet curiosity.
"Letter sent?" Malvorn asked.
"Yes. To Mira."
Through bond, Malvorn's presence carried warmth. "Good. She worries about you. This will ease her mind."
"I hope so," Draven murmured while looking south toward distant Bloomring—hundreds of kilometers away, but connected now through parchment and ink.
The pack gathered around him—Feyra, Velnar, Sylvara, Zor—each offering silent support. They understood family bonds, the need to maintain connections despite distance.
"Ready to continue?" Draven asked.
"Always," Malvorn confirmed.
The alliance lifted into the sky—Draven on Malvorn, pack accompanying, three Overlords following at respectful distance. The northern town shrank below while becoming speck against white expanse.
Inside Genesis Codex, the First Anchor rested safely—black staff holding starry night, dimensional artifact that would help restore merger. One of five secured. Four remaining.
But for now, Draven let himself think of simpler things. Mira receiving his letter in three weeks, reading his words, knowing he was safe and thinking of her. The Covenant growing under her efforts, building something worth protecting.
The journey toward the second Anchor would begin soon. More ancient ruins, more puzzles, more guardians. The mission continued, urgent and cosmic in scope.
But today, he'd taken time to remember why it mattered.
Not just for merger. Not just for Earth and Theia's billions.
For Mira. For family. For the people he loved who deserved a world free from chains.
That was enough reason to continue.
That was enough reason to succeed.
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