Farewell Letter of Miron Canmore
Letter written by Miron Canmore before killing himself, his wife, and his brother, explaining to the next generation what happened and why he was doing what he did. It was discovered by Raisa and Everett, two of Miron's children, who were in the process of cleaning out their father's study when they happened upon it.
Dear children,
Please know that I am sorry for what you are going through. You aren't to blame for what happened, but you've been dragged into it nonetheless. Hopefully, if things have gone according to plan, the official investigation of the accident determined that Antelmo, Aleena, and I all perished in a warehouse fire caused by an improperly installed channeling system and that what I'm about to tell you can remain a dark family secret, one to hide away with the others, I suppose.
Before I continue: Everett, you must feel an overwhelming sense of guilt for what happened. Don't. I may not be an aggregant, but even I can see that your channeling safeguards were more than sufficient. Rest assured, it was not the cause of the fire. I'm sorry that I had to use your work as a scapegoat. I couldn't be more proud of you, my boy.
Now, the story you are about the read is one of jealousy. I can only speak to my own motivations, but I know my brother and my wife well enough to guess theirs.
Reece and Raisa, I'm sure this comes as no shock to you that the inheritance of the vineyard was a sore subject with Antelmo. We argued about it at length after Raisa manifested--he wanted and even expected the vineyard to go to Reece, but tradition dictates that it be left to Raisa. It saddens me that he let such petty desires cloud his judgement, especially when it was not his life that was affected.
I can only assume he sought to sleep with Aleena out of spite for me, but I struggle with why she would betray me like that. She is far younger than I, far more beautiful than I deserve, and she's been a flirt as long as I've known her, but I never believed it went past words. My children, I don't mean to speak ill of your mother, but learning of her betrayal hurt more than I can describe. More so because it was with my own brother. The only thing I'm grateful for in this is that Neve passed before any of this came to light. She was a good woman who deserved better than my brother.
The outcome of this infidelity was a child: Everett.
Everett, I've gone your entire life believing that you were my son, and as far as I'm concerned the truth of your paternity changes nothing. You are still my son. I'm just sorry you had to find out this way.
I don't know if the infidelity continued after that, but shortly after Neve's death I discovered them together. Maybe Antelmo was seeking comfort, but that doesn't make it any less deplorable. They didn't hear me, and I haven't confronted them about it yet. The knowledge has been eating me alive.
I now come to the most difficult part of this: explaining my own actions. I'm not innocent in this, though I wish I could leave you with that idea. My conscience won't allow it. The truth is I was also unfaithful, but not to your mother. While my first wife, Salma, lay dying I found comfort with Neve. She and Antelmo had not yet married, but they were betrothed. We swore after Salma's death it would never happen again, and it never did.
As hurt as I am, I'm sure you can understand my conflicted mindset as I've committed the same sins. That is why I am choosing to air my sins and bring an end to our treachery. As I write this letter I've already told Antelmo and Aleena that I have something to show them in the old warehouse this evening, an old cask that it seems only appropriate to drink with them. The truth is it will be a wine specially created by me, the last wine that the three of us will ever drink. When they ask me what it is, I'll wait until they've drunken it and tell them I call it Ode to Melia. I do hope Antelmo understands my reference and doesn't make me explain it because we'll all have precious time left to clear the air. It shouldn't take much time, perhaps twenty minutes or so from first sip, at which point we'll all be dead. In order to hide the truth from prying eyes, I've interfered with some of the physical channeling and have rigged a fire to start upon our deaths. Rest assured, we will not suffer the flames. Our energies will have already returned to the cycle.
Children, I don't expect your understanding or your forgiveness. You likely think me mad, but rest assured I'm not proud of what I intend to do. I just ask that you don't let the transgressions of this generation taint your hope for the future.
Forever your loving father and uncle
Miron Canmore
Miron Canmore
Great drama! Nice work.