Dear Mr. Hardick,
You have truly done a miracle with your music box. I have seen others control or manage madness, but the extent to which your son has become almost sane is incredible. Clothed, in his right mind, sitting and listening when you speak–all of these are almost unheard of! I wonder if you would be so good as to share the secret to its construction. It could mark the beginning of a new age in which both clockworks and medicine could be fused together into a greater craft, beneficial for all men. No, my friend, I don’t exaggerate. An immense good could be done to the whole race by this. You don’t care for money, I know. But the greatness of this deed could bring hundreds up from darkness, perhaps out of the asylums, and back to work, to good, valuable lives in this city. Please, think this over. I have a friend who believes he can aid in the construction of hundreds of these boxes, to distribute as they have need.
Knowing your heart and hope, I have confidence you’ll agree, so I send you all my best wishes. Sincerely yours,
–C. Bundish, Medical Doctor and Surgeon,
Private Practice, Londreg
#
Father,
Thank you for your invitation, but I believe I’ve found sufficient living quarters, here in the western side of the city. It’s close to fellow businesses, a number of whom are preparing to attempt daring new things in clockworks. I hope to join them in making our new mechanisms even better than they’ve ever been.
I am glad to hear about Akalar. But I must admit your technique pains me. You know I loved mother more than anything, and any remnant of her reminds me of the loss. For that reason I hesitate to return. But don’t fear. I am still doing all my work for your business, as always. You know my work. I’m eager to keep doing it as much as I can.
Thank you again. Your loving son,
–Theonimus
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A a BB b C ccc D
AKa AkA L L
LO Ak A aKa L LO
v EEE e
#
Father,
Forgive my slowness to respond to your letters. There have been so many developments with work that I’ve been unable to keep track of many things for a long time. I believe I finally have them under control now.
It seemed a good time to bring to your attention something that I’ve hesitated to mention since mother died. At the distance of a year, I can think more clearly, and my hopes and desires are clearer before me, as well as plans for attaining them.
You know that for several years I’ve paid my affections to a certain young woman who lives in Nasendra. It was mother’s desire for many months to meet her at our home. And now, I’ve given her a pledge of marriage, and I would like to seek your blessing for it. If you can’t leave your home, would you agree to allow us to meet you there? Perhaps when you’ve met her, you will feel better about our union.
Thank you for your time, and for continuing to allow me to work for you. Your loving son,
–Theonimus
#
aKa Aka akk
Akk akall L
ak—-
aKalar rrr
#
Beloved Propinthia,
You would not believe the time that I’ve had in Londreg! Theonimus is truly a gentleman of gentlemen! Oh, I know you don’t approve of him, but you never approve of anyone who isn’t twice your age, or with a peg leg or false teeth. Honestly, dear, it’s disgraceful for a lovely creature like yourself. Find a good man for once, or else, don’t look at all. You’ve heard the tales of those women in the New Mythrides who go off on their own to seek a fortune, without even so much as a servant. Theonimus actually saw them once. He said they were ugly, naturally, but admired them. I cannot admire anyone who would give up everything that comes with a lover’s affections, the showers of glory that fill your whole body and make it sing–!
But that’s not what I intended to write about. How I can digress when writing to you. I meant to speak of my experience at Theonimus’s home. It was a thousand times different from Theonimus himself: completely disagreeable. Yet it was a bit exciting, the kind of thing you might enjoy reading about.
You see, Theonimus has a half-brother (he doesn’t know who the mother was), who is a complete maniac. He can’t even speak. Sometimes he’ll fly into a rage and scratch himself with abominably long nails like claws, and mutter the most ungodly things–it’s really like something you used to read out of your books when we were girls. Except he was real, and I had to sit near him for the whole of our meal together. He ate like an animal, almost enough to make me lose my appetite.
But you know, that wasn’t the strangest thing. Theonimus’s father seemed perfectly at home with the maniac. He even helped him eat, and spoke softly to him, and tried to keep the hair out of his eyes–an impossible task. Oh, dear, you should have seen it, the most absurd thing I may ever see in my life. I had to focus on my food to keep from giggling at the sight of the two. Theonimus also saw the humor, though he was a bit ashamed.
We were all set to ask the father about his blessing on our marriage, when something awful happened. You see, the maniac carries a mechanism around with him, a box that can play a song when operated. It was the most fantastic thing I’ve ever seen. You know how I adore such mechanisms. It almost made me envy the child. The song, though, clearly upset Theonimus. I think he said it was his mother’s song. I had to restrain my excitement then, seeing how pained he was. He and his mother were very close, you know.
Anyway, the boy kept this box on the table as he ate. We were about to ask for the father’s blessing when I foolishly chose that moment to go freshen myself up. As I rose from the table, I knocked against it and sent the box tumbling to the ground. The song that had come from it was interrupted.
Oh Propinthia! You couldn’t imagine the terror! The boy screamed, and it curdled my blood. He leaped at me, with those awful nails bared–I thought I would lose my life right there. He ripped at my dress, and I screamed. But then a moment later, it was all over. The father grabbed the maniac, who struggled against his grip, still shouting like a drunk, and scratched, and made beastly noises while Theonimus helped me to my feet and escorted me out. It wasn’t until we were back safely in his quarters that I could feel myself safe.
I don’t know what happened to the father and the boy. Theonimus later told me that they were both well enough. I shouldn’t have been surprised if the boy would have ripped the man to shreds, with the way he went after me. But ah well. I won’t have need of any of that anymore. Soon enough, when Theonimus and I are wed, we’ll have no need to worry about anything but each other, and our estate, and the clockworks we’ll put in it.
Dear me, I forgot to write about the clockworks here. I may need a separate letter for that. For now, I shall leave you with all the love a sister can have. Most exuberantly,
–Sylivria
#
N. Davuel, Constable
To: G. Hardick, Londreg
No need to come to the office; we’ve already filed our report. Thank you for your offer. You also have our thanks for intervening in the incident and restraining your son. If more did what you did, we’d live in a better world.
However, we must caution you about continuing to keep the boy with you. It is clear he poses a threat to you and your neighbors. It’s hard for me to believe that your neighbors didn’t previously know about him. But they do now, and no doubt they’ll be afraid.
Fortunately, we have long been proud of our asylum systems, providing the best kind of care for that sort of person. It is the vanguard’s official recommendation, and mine personally, that you allow your son to be cared for there. If needed, we will make provisions to assist you with this change.
You have our thanks again. Farewell.
#
Lll lo
L oF
lavv
#
Dearest Theonimus,
I can’t stand it any longer. I’m dying to see you again, as soon as possible. You don’t know how abysmal it is out here in the forest without any mention of those glorious mechanisms you make. I’ve argued with Father about at least being rid of these infernal candles, and can you imagine what he said? He said as long as he lived and breathed, we would live as our ancestors had, in simplicity. Simplicity and dim eyesight! I was so shocked, I couldn’t say another word. You must come and comfort me soon.
Speaking of fathers, though, my own situation reminds me of yours. I still can’t fathom why your father is so stubborn about your inheritance. Are you sure you just haven’t asked forcefully enough? You’ve worked for him so hard, these so many years, he ought to give it to you in return. Have you reminded him of that? No, of course you have. I simply can’t understand it. Why should he keep you from your due?
Unless, perhaps, he has no more to give. It’s altogether possible, if what you tell me about your brother is true. The doctors we use never give us any help without charging a great price for it. You’d think they were going to go out of business soon, as if people stopped being sick after all!
Oh, my dearest, I really do need you to come to me. My heart burns with yearning to have you beside me, and listen to the names of all the thousands of wonderful mechanisms we’ll have in our own house when we’re wed at last.
With more love than ever woman gave another man,
–Sylivria
#
Theonimus,
In answer to your question, no, there are no more outstanding debts your father has to pay me. He took care of it all several years ago. He hasn’t borrowed anything from me since.
Seeing you’re in a difficult position, I would be willing to lend my help. With the way your ideas have improved your business, paying off a loan should be simple enough. I’d be glad to give one. Why should money get in the way of your happiness? Come by and we can discuss it.
Best regards,
–S. Beckston, Banker, Londreg
#
Father,
Now that several months have passed since our ill-fated last meeting, I’ve decided to begin looking at my resources again and seeing if they’re sufficient to undertake marriage. Unfortunately, my savings have mostly been consumed with renting my quarters here, and with food.
Father, I don’t want to venture so far as to presume, but, well, I feel as if you have already given Akalar an immense amount in looking for his treatment. I am glad that you’ve found it. But I have not yet received anything but pay for my daily services in the business. This, you know, isn’t enough to hope to support a wife or an estate, or my own business endeavors.
I know this is too far, but I don’t know what else to say. You might consider this an investment. I’ll return to you as much as you give, and even more, if you agree. Thank you.
–Theonimus
#
Dear Mr. Hardick,
Thank you for your letter. It moved me deeply. You know, I have often been tempted to put the blame upon myself, for your great loss. Had I only postponed my holiday those few years ago! You have my deepest thanks for not holding that foolishness against me.
Forgive me for using so raw a time as this to pose again a question, but I’m still assured that your discovery regarding your music box can be a life-saving, and life-changing revolution in the lives of so many, I have to press it again. You need not worry yourself with anything except receiving our thanks, and a generous royalty. You might use it to support your son.
Please, I know you can see things from a greater perspective. Let me entreat you again to share the secret of the box and its construction. We will share it with all we can. If I may be so bold as to venture, it could prove that your loss made the way for something many times better for everyone. Please give it your consideration.
Sincerely Yours,
–C. Bundish, Medical Doctor and Surgeon,
Private Practice, Londreg
#
Darling Theonimus,
What does it matter if your father does sell his secret away? It will mean more income for him, and more hope of an inheritance for you. It means a bigger house, with more rooms, more land, more mechanisms, and everything else we’ve dreamed of for so long.
Unless you mean that he intends to use the money only for your brother’s wellbeing. Then I see well what makes you so angry about it. How could he truly be so unfair as to do such a thing? Not your father, surely. Surely he has something else in mind, after all the years you’ve worked for him, and those ingenious ideas that have grown things as you tell me. I know, many fathers can be blind. Mine very soon will be, if this nonsense about candles keeps up. But your father never struck me as a blind man. Oh, odd, yes, and a bit alarming, the way he keeps your brother around so. But not blind.
Perhaps you’d better go speak to him in person. You have such a way with words. Surely he’ll listen to you now. Though, maybe you shouldn’t say anything about me. Just state what it is you want, and he’ll be sure to give it.
You know, dearest, it’s been too many months since you’ve come to see me. I’ve almost given up asking. You’d better come soon, you know. Father has many other suitors calling on me daily, hoping they can expand his business through a tighter bond (he’ll never manage it with Propinthia). While some are abysmally ugly, a few are rather handsome. You ought to come before I forget my self-control.
With more love than ever–for now,
–Sylivria
#
My Son,
I write as you leave the house, wearied and saddened. I thought it best not to answer your anger in the moment, for fear of stirring it up even more. Please forgive me, and let me now explain.
You have always been a faithful son, quick to obey what I’ve asked of you, ready to do, to act, as you knew was right. You’ve always been with me, and I’ve been glad to have you near. Everything that I have is yours as well; everything, such as it is, is at your disposal. You only need to ask.
I celebrate with Akalar because his recovery is worth celebrating. Do you know, he’s beginning to learn to read and write? The doctors assured me it wasn’t possible. But he can stammer through bits of the books that I gave him and you, so long ago. That is how I see my son, your brother, though he is miserable and wretched as you say. I believe your mother–
[The page is torn here]