Chapter Text
Caleb loved writing letters. It was calming. It was familiar. It was personal. He preferred to put his thoughts on paper, and he could better articulate his feelings. During the six years of his travels, he had always written letters; it was to his departed parents, but it was good to keep track of the good times, to push him forward, to give him hope. When his adventuring days were over, he had stopped, deeming it unnecessary. How wrong he was. This habit that he had formed, this comforting crutch that had gotten him through the harshest times, buzzed under his skin once more.
After the Mighty Nein had separated, Caleb made a point to write to them at least every month. The letters to Veth would be sent directly to her home in Nicodranas. Beau and Yasha’s would be delivered to their new home (he made a mental note to give them a housewarming gift). Fjord and Jester was a strange arrangement, since they were always on the move. He opted to send the letters to The Lavish Chateau as he knew that Marion Lavorre would give them the letters straight away. Caduceus was more difficult to send letters to. No one wanted to deal with the Savalirwood, as the fear of being cursed was deeply rooted in their beliefs. His only option was to send it to Shadycreek Run for the firbolg to pick up. Every once in a while, Caduceus would send a letter back, apologizing for the late responses.
There were days where Caleb wished he had Jester’s ability to send messages as she did. But there was nothing like putting a pen on paper, ink flowing delicately on the surface. He doubted he could put his thoughts into twenty-five words.
“Thank you for the letters, Caleb! I’m happy that you are happy with your job! Your students sound so cool! …We! Should! Hang! Out! Soon!”
“You are welcome. Let me know when you and Fjord are back in Nicodranas again. I would love to come visit.”
Jester continued updating him and the rest of the Nein every day, and it always brightened his mood. To hear her voice, the excitement that spilled from her, it made his heart soar. Oh, how he missed Jester. It was rare of him to see her, with her travels and his teaching career making it more difficult, but his love for her never waned. It was a burden. He needed to move on. Well, he tried with Essek, and that didn’t go well. That was a different spiral of heartbreak that he wished to not dwell on for too long.
Caleb sighed against his office chair. He had letters to send out, and the postman was already making his rounds around town (the offices would be closing in an hour and twelve minutes). His letter to Jester hadn’t been written yet. It always took effort and planning, as Caleb wanted to pour his every being into it. But that was dangerous. She must not know. Every single letter, he struggled, but he wanted to… he wanted to relieve this ache, this pain that he had for what felt like decades. Maybe it was time, he thought. Maybe he should give in to temptation. Let everything out, this secret that had been his constant companion. Do it. What's the worst that could happen? Caleb opened one of his drawers of his desk and pulled a clean sheet of parchment. He picked up his quill, and started writing.
Dearest Jester,
You will never read this. This is for my eyes, and my eyes only. But there is so much built up in my heart, my hands burn to put it all down on paper. I need to get this all out, and hopefully help me move on. This secret that has gripped my very soul needs to be told, but I repeat, this is not meant for your eyes; I am too much of a coward to say it directly. Jester, how I wish to be more honest with you, but this letter will have to do – for my sanity.
I love you.
There, my admission written in ink before my eyes. This confession that I dared not dream, dared not think, dared not feel, is permanently stained on this fragile sheet of paper. I love you. Deeply. Truly. I always have. This love wasn’t instantaneous; it grew inside me like a seed planted in the earth, unknowingly sprouting upward until it felt the sun for the first time. And though that sprout tried to hide in the shade, believing it undeserving of such kindness, such warmth, such care from your radiant light, it gave in and it grew. And it grew. And it grew. Until I was afraid that you would notice – this unsightly weed that had corrupted this garden that you shined on.
I managed to hide this love from you, tucked away in a dark corner, afraid and unworthy of your light. What if you found out? What would you do? What would you say? Would you look at me with disgust? Sympathy? No, I mustn’t say anything. It is better you don’t know.
You have Fjord. He is a good man. He will treat you like the wonder of a woman that you are. He loves you. I know he does. Alas, it doesn’t stop my jealousy. I know. How unbecoming of me. I like Fjord, do not get me wrong. But this shameful envy that flows through me, knowing that he is able to see you every day, to look into your eyes – those beautiful eyes that reminds me of the lavender fields in the spring – and freely say what I could not; it is unbearable. But I will keep my silence. I will bury this deep within me. Because I know that you are living your best life, and isn’t that what matters most? Your happiness is all I ever wished for you, feelings be damned.
I love you, Jester Lavorre. You are beautiful in every way, and I truly hope you know that. You are special to me and to those around you. You have always seen good in me, and I will not take that for granted. I will forever be grateful of your friendship. You are my family, one that I will cherish until my dying breath. That is a promise.
Earnestly yours, Caleb
Caleb let out a sigh of relief. He felt better. So much better. Though, there was a strange pang of rejection in his heart – that was ridiculous – it felt cathartic to let that all out. He could have written it all in a journal – there were plenty in his office to do just that. But he preferred this specific letter to be…exactly like a letter. There needed to be some form of finality to it. If he wrote it in some random book, it would be a constant reminder, a new weight of guilt and secrecy that he had to carry. Besides, he wasn’t going to send it. He’ll burn it eventually. Maybe stick it in his amber pocket dimension, and throw into the Astral Sea to be forgotten.
He shook his head to clear his thoughts. Caleb grabbed another sheet of paper, and started to write a newly formed letter to Jester. Carefully folding the sheet of paper, he placed it in an envelope, address already written, and finalized it with an amber-colored wax seal. He grabbed the confession letter, and was ready to put it in the amber before he heard a knock on his door.
“Professor Widogast?”
A young man peeked over the door frame, cautious about entering at such a time. He was wearing the academy’s school uniform, his blond hair long and in a messy ponytail. His round glasses were slightly skewed, dangerously low on his nose.
“Ah, Theo.” Caleb greeted, blindly tucking the secret letter in his teaching robes. “What can I help you with?”
“Um…” Theo fully stepped at the center of the entryway, but didn’t step inside his office. “I accidentally spilled the ink again…”
It took a second for him to notice the black stains on his pants and shoes. He was usually perceptive, but the dark clothes of the uniform hid it well. Caleb could almost feel his heart ache. This poor kid, always accident-prone, had managed to spill some high quality ink and was terrified to ask his teacher for help. The ink… The ink! The boy in him that grew up poor, the stinky wizard that lived on the streets, screamed in pain from the waste of money. But Caleb wasn’t going to pretend that he had never been in Theo’s shoes. All he could do was take a deep breath, and smile.
“Theo, I’m not going to kick you out of the school because you spilled some ink.” Caleb joked. “Let’s see what we can salvage, okay?”
As Caleb got up, a strong gust of wind slammed his glass windows open, and scattered the contents on his table to the floor. He swore loudly from shock before rushing over to his window and closed it shut, latching it for good measure. He let out another slew of Zemnian swears before stopping himself. He was a teacher, and swearing in front of a little kid – his student! – was frowned upon. It wasn’t the end of the world (he could easily think of worse scenarios), and it wasn’t as if his students never swore in front of him before, but there was a different weight of responsibility and expectations to his job, an air of professionalism that he never believed he had to worry about until now.
“Well!” Caleb laughed nervously. “Theo, promise me you won’t tell my superiors about my…very colorful language.”
“I promise…” Theo reached down and helped him grab the letters off the floor. “As long as you don’t tell anyone that I spilled the super expensive ink.”
“Deal.” Caleb nodded as he retrieved the rest of his scattered paper. He quickly placed them on his desk in a neat pile. “Now, let’s get that ink cleaned up before it sets in the floors.”
Caleb didn’t think too much about the stack of letters for too long. Once it was dropped off at the postman’s building, it was a check mark on the list of things he did that day. It usually took a month for the letters to reach everyone, give or take. Maybe longer depending on the weather. So far, it had only been two weeks. He wasn’t worried. What made Caleb feel something was off was in the middle of the night, a nagging feeling in the back of his mind; a moment that was knocking louder and louder, begging to be let in.
Check the letter. Check the letter. Check the letter! CHECK THE LETTER!
There was no way he was able to sleep with that nonsense. He got up from his bed, and picked up the amber with the confession letter. With trembling hands, Caleb whispered into the amber, spilling its contents, and froze the moment his eyes locked on the folded parchment. The letter… it was a blank envelope, thank the gods! It wasn’t a mistake! He let out a sigh of relief, and slumped in his chair next to his bed. He stared at it, his relief turning into suspicion. Check the letter. Check the letter. Check the letter. He had that painful, nagging feeling in his chest again, unsatisfied. He had to know. He had to know! Caleb opened the flap of the envelope… He unfolded the paper… He felt his stomach drop to his feet.
Dear Jester,
I hope you are well –
Oh. He was having a panic attack. That’s nice. He hadn’t had that in a while. Caleb searched around his room, his mind going a mile a minute, unable to control his screaming thoughts. The letter was swapped? That’s impossible. It was sealed! Jester’s letter was already sealed! How could that have happened? It had to have been some kind of magic… But who would do that? Who could have that kind of power? Theo surely couldn’t.
Caleb took a deep breath. He needed to think clearly. It would do him no good to scramble around without planning a course of action. It had been two weeks since it was sent. Jester wouldn’t be home for a while. Maybe. She would let him know when she arrived at port. He had time to intercept it. But how? He couldn’t just up and leave in search of every postman in Wildemount. Unless…
88888888
“Vacation time?” Astrid read through the request form. “In the middle of the academic year? That’s unlike you. Especially since you worked so hard to get this job.”
“I know. More reason for me to slow down. I never really had a chance after these three years.” Caleb nodded as he rearranged his books on his shelf. It pained him to lie to her face, but he didn’t want to have this conversation. Later, maybe. She would probably kill him right afterwards. “But it won’t be for too long. A couple weeks should do. Any more and I’m sure I’ll get anxious.”
“That’s true.” Astrid chuckled softly. She paused a moment, staring at the paper in her hands, then sighed. “To be honest, I’m glad you are taking better care of your health. Bren would have pushed through it.”
Caleb stopped what he was doing, and looked up at Astrid. Her concern didn’t leave her eyes, but the genuine relief in her voice made him smile. He was always worried what would happen to Astrid when she accepted the responsibility of being the Archmage of Civil Influence. Would she buckle down? Would it change her for the worse? Would the cycle of propaganda continue? To his surprise, she had handled it quite well. If anything, it suited her. Bren would have been jealous of her achievements. Caleb only felt pride.
“If it weren’t for my friends, I would have continued to be too stubborn to get a wink of sleep.” Caleb walked up to her, and placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. “And if any of them were here, they would have told you to stop overworking yourself. Especially Jester. She is quite fond of you, you know.”
“I know.” Astrid chuckled softly. She then furrowed her brow. “I have no idea why.”
“It’s Jester; she’s always a good judge of character.” Caleb laughed. “If you asked me, there’s no reason to not be fond of you.”
“Well, aren’t you sweet.” Astrid stated dryly with a humorous glint in her eye. “But your charms won’t work on me, Professor Widogast.”
“There’s always next time.” Caleb joked, causing her to laugh in a way that reminded him of their younger years. He grabbed his components and waved his hand in the air, before giving a small salute to Astrid. In a blink of an eye, Caleb disappeared from his office, and into the blinding heat of Nicodranas.