Dear Brother,
Do you remember that day? The day we made our promise?
It was raining outside that day, shaking thunder and howling winds. The windows rattled, and the sky brightened with flashes of light. I remember the flicking flame as we huddled by the fire at the time. Yet we were still cold, the walls holding little of the chilling winds and freezing rain. Our mother shielded us from the environment as best as she could, her frail and bony frame barely keeping up the blanket that was wrapped around us. Do you remember the promise that we would never again go hungry or cold? That we will fill our homes with warmth and comfort, that our family will never need to bear the cold winter nights nor the hot summer sun? Of course you do, for every month you would send us Gold and Supplies. Mother never asked where it is from, but I know. Come home Brother, you have done enough for all of us. With the money you have given us I have started a bakery and Inn. We are doing quite well Brother, enough that the walls to our house are sturdy, the fire warm, and food plentiful. You have rejected us many times to come back home, but with the looming war ahead I fear for your safety. Please brother, come home. At least, if not for me, for our mother. With every passing moon, she grows a little bit more ill.
Please come home.
Your Sister,
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