[A Letter to Acolyte Ianthe]

[Mari]

Ianthe,

These are nights I feel that my skein has been spooled out and my thread well frayed but, for now, it is unsevered.

By His wit are we made to see well in the dark and much has been in motion against our work, and much still is. The shapes of these conspiracies grow clearer to my eyes and we should speak of it. 

Have a care, in the meanwhile. You are dear to me. And should my own thread be cut, do as you must.

Burn the Letter,
Mari

[Eyesore]

Received and promptly discarded.