>>5784959Directions were enclosed, to a residence on the other side of the city—the bad and rough side, near to where Goblintown had been situated before the squalid shanties of that hive of scum and villainy had been ‘tidied’ by the guards and the paladins following reports of drug trafficking and cultic activities. That… Was not necessarily what you’d expected, from the residence of your handsome, strong, smart, swift, brave, kind, loving father, with his coat-of-arms. Were these symbols not reserved for nobility? You frowned a little, regarding again the name with which it was signed:
‘Your loving father, Rudolfo’
You nodded, tucking the letter back into the envelope and pocketing it, and considered deeply what to do. The thoughts lingered all through the night and troubled your dreams, and preoccupied you in class the next day; you couldn’t afford to miss any more lectures or lessons, having already taken time for your excursion to Old Maple Hill.
“You look unwell,” Izirina Henzler commented, when next you saw her.
Her expression was neutral, not overly troubled, save for a crease of mild confusion.
“Your magical specialty should be more than enough to deal with a cold or flu, shouldn’t it…?”
You huffed, and drew yourself up, and asserted to her that YES, it WAS.
“I’m not slipping up YET, don’t you worry!” you declared to your one-time rival. “It’s… Something else.”
If Izirina was noting something was wrong—ill-socialized, moody IZIRNA—then it MUST have been affecting you...
The girl in question looked at you expectantly, and you’d faltered as you considered what to say—and do-about the letter from your father.
In the end, you…
>Went to see him, alone>Went to see him, bringing someone for moral support [who?]>Wrote your father back, apologizing but declining the invitation—your studies require your attention, and he is a stranger to you>Never wrote him back, or visited>Write-in 