illirica
Well-Known Member
If you're reading this, your mother is gone.
I'm sorry. It's okay to feel conflicted about that. If I'm gone, it's all right to feel conflicted about me, too. I don't know if you will. Your mother is very good at what she does.
I hope, before you read this, that we had a chance to tell you about Madeline.
Reinhard said we were crazy. He'd recommended a selective abortion, when we found out - that if we tried to save one of you, we could have one of you. Twins wasn't a good idea. Not for a shifter.
He didn't know we'd been trying for twins for the last decade, or that we'd aborted everything that wasn't twins. There were supposed to be two of you. There were always supposed to be two of you.
One for James, and one for Ragenard.
It was all about balance. You to balance James, to stand in front of him so that there was someone stepping forward to protect him while he tried to protect everyone else. Her to balance Ragenard, to stand behind him so that he'd know there was someone behind him, supporting him first when everyone else always put him second. You'd balance each other, too, raised with each other to rely on, always.
But Madeline didn't make it, and I just have to hope that we were able to give you enough to balance yourself.
Your mother almost didn't make it, either. Reinhard says we won't be able to try again, so it will be only you. You, and James, because Mathis always did favor him, and because in the few minutes it took for your sister to be stillborn, you had already been primed for him. Yes, we started that early. Little things at first - a captured scent, a recorded voicemail. Lacey could always control herself exactly as well as she wanted. She made sure that when he was around, she was calmer - breathing, heartrate, all the littlest things. You were an infant, but you already knew that when he was there, it was safe enough to relax.
And I made sure that when he wasn't, you knew not to.
I'm sorry, Maggie. We're not good people. Not me, not your mother, not you. At least we knew, and chose it anyway.
You never had a chance.
Look after Ragenard, if you can. There may be a time when he needs someone like you.
-Emory Merin, Journal Entry
I'm sorry. It's okay to feel conflicted about that. If I'm gone, it's all right to feel conflicted about me, too. I don't know if you will. Your mother is very good at what she does.
I hope, before you read this, that we had a chance to tell you about Madeline.
Reinhard said we were crazy. He'd recommended a selective abortion, when we found out - that if we tried to save one of you, we could have one of you. Twins wasn't a good idea. Not for a shifter.
He didn't know we'd been trying for twins for the last decade, or that we'd aborted everything that wasn't twins. There were supposed to be two of you. There were always supposed to be two of you.
One for James, and one for Ragenard.
It was all about balance. You to balance James, to stand in front of him so that there was someone stepping forward to protect him while he tried to protect everyone else. Her to balance Ragenard, to stand behind him so that he'd know there was someone behind him, supporting him first when everyone else always put him second. You'd balance each other, too, raised with each other to rely on, always.
But Madeline didn't make it, and I just have to hope that we were able to give you enough to balance yourself.
Your mother almost didn't make it, either. Reinhard says we won't be able to try again, so it will be only you. You, and James, because Mathis always did favor him, and because in the few minutes it took for your sister to be stillborn, you had already been primed for him. Yes, we started that early. Little things at first - a captured scent, a recorded voicemail. Lacey could always control herself exactly as well as she wanted. She made sure that when he was around, she was calmer - breathing, heartrate, all the littlest things. You were an infant, but you already knew that when he was there, it was safe enough to relax.
And I made sure that when he wasn't, you knew not to.
I'm sorry, Maggie. We're not good people. Not me, not your mother, not you. At least we knew, and chose it anyway.
You never had a chance.
Look after Ragenard, if you can. There may be a time when he needs someone like you.
-Emory Merin, Journal Entry