Dear Eijiro,
Is that the right way to open a letter to a good friend? You’re dear to me, but it feels so formal. “Hello” seems too casual, and it’s not like we’re face-to-face right now. But something like “My Dearest Eijiro” is much too forward! Or maybe it won’t be, by the time you actually get this, because right now I cannot find the address you gave me! How am I supposed to send you letters without an address, Eijiro? I suspect I’ll just have to let them pile up next to my door until some otherworldly servant of yours comes to pick them all up.
Anyway, I don’t know if you’ve heard, but there’s been a bit of an emergency here in Silvercreek. Some travelers may have brought an illness that’s spreading through the population here. One of the reasons I’m writing is to warn you not to visit quite yet, I know you can be a little whimsical about it. But I wouldn’t want you to suffer this disease just for the sake of visiting me. It’s very rarely lethal, but it is quite contagious and it keeps you in bed for half a month.
As a result, all of the local restaurants have closed down. It’s entirely understandable. But Eiji, I hate to tell you this…this is incredibly difficult for me. I can’t cook!!
“But Iefyr,” you might say, with your coy smile and knowing gaze, “You bake treats for me all the time, you’re an excellent chef.” It is with great shame that I admit: While I’m an excellent baker, I cannot prepare…non-baked foods. I am simply useless without an oven.
You may not know this about me, Eiji, but I struggle with a lack of direction. Cooking is too whimsical! “Add salt to taste?” How am I supposed to know the right amount of salt on preference alone? Next thing I know, I’ve poured a half a cup into my meat sauce. (Is that bad, is half a cup of salt for meat sauce actually correct? Please help me, Eiji.)
Cooking is also so lonely. I already spend so much of my day in quiet contemplation, cooking feels like a waste when I could go out and explore and expose myself to other people!
Well, I suppose that’s the problem. With this sickness going around, I’m not supposed to expose myself to anyone, much less a stranger.
I hope you are doing well, Eiji. Please send snacks.
Signed,
Iefyr of the Civic Divinity
Dear Eijiro,
I have found a solution!! This is very exciting for me. I have still not found your address, which I am confident is lying around my chambers somewhere, but if I recall it’s not an address that anyone in this city could deliver to, so there’s not much use in finding it.
Anyway! My solution. So do you remember how disappointed I was with cooking? All of the whimsy and the imprecision? Well I did what any intelligent creature would and I asked for a friend to help me! No, not you.
His name is K’nneth, and he’s a drow—and he spends his time at the chapel across from my temple! (You remember that I’m a cleric of the Civic Divinity, of course, and that I live across the street from the temple, also of course.) What a funny coincidence that he would be in the building next to me and also quite open to teaching me how to cook! He’s very sweet, I think you would like him. Poor fellow is thin as a rail though, I’ve promised to bake him some special treats as thanks for helping me.
He seems to disagree that cooking and baking are so different though! And his cookbook is quite different from mine. I thought that getting a cookbook full of famous firbolg recipes would be good, but apparently that may be the source of my problem. His drow recipes are much more precise! (And dangerous! Did you know there are mushrooms that grow underground that alter your size? But if you cook them, they make an excellent topping for flatbread.)
Kenth told me that I spend too much of my time worrying about multitasking in the kitchen, that if I learn to relax and trust the recipe and my own sense of taste, I’ll be fine. But he hasn’t been here for the several years I’ve spent doubting myself! So we shall see who proves to be correct in the end.
Signed,
Ieyfr of the Civic Divinity
P.S. – Did you see what I did there with “proving?” That’s a baking pun, aha.
Dear Eijiro,
I found your address. I’m considering spending the next several weeks trying to deliver these letters psychically rather than just letting them pile up by the door.
“But Iefyr,” you might say, “Weren’t you having a wonderful time learning to cook with your dearest new drow friend K’nneth?”
And then I will languish and groan as I confess: I have given up on cooking.
It’s not personal, Eijiro. Last week I was informed by letter that an acquaintance of K’nneth was recently diagnosed with the sickness. (We are deliberately choosing to avoid the word “plague” through a sense of cautious optimism.) As a result, K’nneth must stay isolated in his home for two weeks. And as a preventative measure, I’ve decided to stay isolated as well.
I believe I have finally discovered what Hell is truly like, Eiji. I know there are plenty of people with connections to Hell, and that it’s actually very complicated, but here, in my heart of hearts, I know that it is being trapped inside, alone, with only the stalest of snacks to sustain oneself upon.
I hope you know that these last two paragraphs are me being melodramatic, Eiji. There are plenty of people worse off than I am. I know this. I know it so deeply that I know it twice over! Before the sickness forced most of us to isolate ourselves, I spent many of my days listening to people and talking to them about their problems. Guiding them toward a solution inspired by kindness and compassion.
I miss that so much, Eiji.
I’ve gone for weeks without the stories from my congregation. Without being able to look someone in the eye and tell them in confidence that things will be all right. Even when we had to suspend our services, I still had the chance to meet up with my regulars at The Coffee Cup, Harold’s Krevists, The Chocolate Spoon and Baker’s Dozen.
And every time I step into my kitchen, I can’t help but think of all the people I wish I had there with me. I can’t bring myself to even open a drawer for fear of seeing my lonely reflection in some silverware.
I want so desperately to help these people and I’m not sure if I can live with myself for not doing my part. But people like me…well, we’re not as helpful during a plague as you might think. I don’t know if this is the case where you hail from, but here in Silvercreek, healing the injured is much more straightforward than healing the sick. We understand injuries. We know the danger. We know the methods to repair the body.
A sickness is a different beast entirely. Until there’s an agreement on what the sickness is and how it works, there’s essentially no use trying to use healing magic, be it divine or arcane, unless your patient consents to the possibility of any result, including death.
And I cannot have that on my conscience. Nor can any of my brothers and sisters of the Civic Divinity. That risk is too great. We are ready to assist when the researchers understand the sickness well enough. But until then, I just have to sit here and try not to think about my kitchen.
So I will snack until I die here alone, and may Urbanus lay my soul to rest in his greatest city when I do.
Signed,
Iefyr of the Civic Divinity
P.S. – Please pleeaaase send snacks.
Dear Eijiro,
If you have not already sent any snacks, please refrain! I refuse to even look at another chocolate-dipped banana chip or dried apple slice ever again. I have been subsisting on snacks like these for the last two weeks and I must admit that I should have stopped long ago.
I have ACNE. I thought I was rid of that accursed phenomenon when I became an adult who has to deal with back pain. Can you believe this? At first I thought it was the sickness manifesting, but these pimples don’t even compare to the symptoms I’ve been told about.
Thankfully, one of the members of my congregation has a family farm not too far from Silvercreek and she brought fresh produce to my door. I have never been so thankful for a salad in my life. Getting a whole box of vegetables was a greater gift than she could have imagined. I was able to make myself a lovely little meal without worry.
K’nneth would have been so proud if he’d seen it. Not that anything has happened to him, mind you! He’s still isolating himself, is all. But I will see him next week as long as he shows no symptoms until then.
In the meantime, I can happily report that I have found a way to reach out to my community again! It was a glorious moment of divine inspiration. I had no appetite for sweets but I wanted to busy myself with baking again. And then I realized: I can just deliver my baked treats to friends and neighbors! (I feel a little silly about this, but I must stress how much of a struggle it is to think sensibly when isolated.)
And I’ve also realized that writing to you is little better than journaling at this point. Just another excuse to be alone with my thoughts, when what I really need is a pen pal. So this is my devious plan to save everyone:
I am going to make treats and then leave a note with each little delivery saying that I would be happy to be their pen pal and hear more about their lives! Wish me luck, Eiji. Or don’t! This plan is foolproof and I will brag about all of my great new friends who you are not allowed to meet in person. (Until I am also allowed to meet them in person.)
Signed,
Iefyr of the Civic Divinity
My Dearest Iefyr,
Imagine my surprise when my clockwork assistant brought me a pile of letters from you. I thought you were in some kind of danger at first, but your stories made me smile during a time of great unrest for my home.
I am so sorry to hear of such troubles you face, of course. I wish you and everyone in Silvercreek the quickest of recoveries. As much as I’d like to see you in person again, I suspect it would be best to wait until everyone is out of danger. Besides, I couldn’t imagine visiting my wonderful firbolg friend without taking a trip to The Chocolate Spoon.
I imagine you might have figured this out already, but if you write my address down on an envelope, it will eventually be picked up by a wandering planar…Well, I’ll explain how it works next time we see each other. Just know that you have everything you need to be my pen pal. Even though I understand there’s fierce competition for your attention these days. I hope you will take a moment to respond soon. I would love to hear more about your neighbors if you have the time to share.
Be well, my friend. And stay safe.
Yours truly,
Eijiro
Orcanist 