Are 16:38 after noon and the rain has ceased to mourn a long suicide sentence in the Valley of the Starlings. There are two green stone houses and a stream that always seems to be very cheerful, full of life among its waters almost black and shining.
16:40, a December afternoon with the paper in my hands, I am thinking... Theah da-os racoarthis udholas am-l bull da-l mamireah... Oh! My memory stands as an old stone wall, ferns and wildflowers too. And I'm here, happy in my solitude, with a drowsy numbness in the air around my chair... but sad because you are not at my side.
16:45 in this old Palace of the Mountain, writing a letter that will be quickly deliver to the wild wind full of colourful images in a melancholy landscape. Seems that I will chase in every corner of this room dreams and failures... unfinished plans for restart and never end, all by you, dear Lady of the Silent Lights, my dear Lady of the Unicorns.
With the heart, I write to you, happy in thine happiness.
Yours, Lord Konrad.