Prologue

Prologue

My dearest Temperance,

You have implored me to write my life down for you and I have finally sat down with pen and paper while you hunt through the night to grant you that request. This world is substantially different from the one I was raised in, so I’m afraid you will be required to use your imagination for the better part of my letter to you. 

Not that you would have an issue with it. Your gift of imagination never fails to impress me. 

I am sitting at my desk that you so artfully crafted to look just like my father’s and, the moment I did, a recollection of memories flooded the forefront of my mind; the only thing I could do was sit here and let them play before my eyes. Even the familiar scratch of this pen on paper as I write everything down brings back memories of my father sitting here and writing letters or signing important documents. I was still learning about these particular types of parchments, so I would accompany him quietly during the rare moments that he would be home long enough to attend to them. 

“Come, sit with me. Learn,” he would tell me, motioning to the chair opposite from where he sat himself. I obeyed every time with a youthful smile on my lips, relishing in the quiet moments we had. I’d like to think that they were some of my favorite memories with him. 

Despite the perfect rendition of this particular room, I must admit you surround every corner and surface within this room, settling delicately like down feathers. Your essence kicks up and flips through the air around my feet and hands as I move silently, only to settle back down in new places. It’s comforting. 

I am sure you have noticed this by now, my beloved Fledgling of the Moon, but I will say it forthright: I am absolutely overcome by you in every way you have to offer. Your grace of heart and mind paralyze me in the best ways. I could write an entire novel about you and still have more to write but I digress. Though my life may have started with you, my story does not.