Baird glanced up sharply when the door to his cell slid aside, revealing a pair of scowling guards. From the lurid lighting overhead to the earsplitting squeak of the automatic door when opened, the Iron Hallway's remodel since his last visit rendered his present stay even more bothersome. Isolation made matters all the worse. 

From where he sat on an unfurnished metal cot, Baird eyed the newcomers. He chose not to speak, deciding the effort to give even a berating remark was unnecessary for such vile individuals as they clearly were. 

"Stand up." the paler of the two guards grumbled. 

Baird obliged reluctantly and also obeyed when the man motioned for him to sit at the seat before the desk, the only other two objects in the room. He still remained silent. 

The darker-skinned guard, who appeared Elwenite by Baird's judgement, slapped a piece of paper and an envelope onto the desk. A puff of air escaped his lips as a pen joined the pile. 

"Last letter." he growled, "Address it to whomever you will." 

"He doesn't even deserve such honor." the first guard spat, "Murderous scum as he is." 

The dark-toned man shrugged. "Whatever, man. Orders are orders. Let's just get going." 

Baird watched the two men leave. The door slid shut with its irritating squeak before clicking shut. That was another sound he abhorred, that grating click of the lock. 

There was no question in Baird's mind as to who he would write this last letter to, though tears crept to his eyes at even the thought. He snatched up the envelope, scribbled his address in Antepeño onto it, and pushed it aside. With a deep sigh and a quick prayer, he put his pen to the paper and began to write. 

Dearest Abby, my world, 

Sometimes when I write, the finale comes upon me so swiftly, swooping (as it were) from the heavens above and landing on the page with an earth-shattering thud. They close the book in a heartbeat, without warning. Such abruptness, usually accompanied by tragedy. It's striking, really. I had no idea that's what God had in mind for my story, darling, and it brings tears from my very soul up to my eyes. 

Baird sniffled and stared absentmindedly at the flawless white wall before him. A quivering tear dropped from his eye to the paper, but he didn't notice, so numbing was the pain. Finally, he glanced down and resumed writing. 

Of which above you may see a sample. To dispense of my vagueness, I've been taken to the Iron Hallway. Tomorrow morning, my head will be separated from my body and my soul will float heavenward—without you, sadly. Honestly, I'm not the slightest bit prepared. I'm scared, darling. Our baby without a father, you struggling to singlehandedly carry a burden meant for two, and yes, my own termination, these things concern me and bring still more tears to my eyes. 

It's a most poetic ending, I concede. I first ascended to the realm of true manhood here. Accompanying Khemera and the others here to rescue that Kemarian princess and rid the world of cursed Pietrovo, it was a true test of the new man I'd become. And I tried to run away from it all, for your sake. You know this well. But they found me all the same and dragged me back into the fight. Abby, you have no idea how fast my heart beats, from fear or a longing for ever-distant you, I know not. But as I said, how poetic for me to be imprisoned and executed in the very same place I passed my first trial—what should have been my last expedition. I know dying wasn't part of the agreement, but here we are. 

These 25 years of my life have been short, but joyful, my love. Looking back on all I've written, I believe I have a small sense of how our Creator felt looking over his work on that beautiful seventh day. I've enjoyed good music, good food, and good movies, especially yours. And these five years I've known you are undoubtably the sweetest in my life. You're my blessing, Abby. If I had but a star in the sky, and it was you, I should be quite content. I long to hear your beautiful laughter, see your striking blue irises intertwined with my own, smell your impeccable scent, feel your titillating touch. But I suppose I've enjoyed enough of those things already, and my Maker hastens to the conclusion of my tale. I doubt his wrist tires or pen runs dry. But perhaps a more interesting character has arisen and sparked his interest, and who am I to blame him? 

I could write for days, but I don't have them. Furthermore, the end of my paper draws near, so I end this of necessity rather than of will. May God bless you, dear, and doubly so for the tragedy you'll face. I'm sorry. By the time you read this, I'll have passed on already. But I have faith that he will sustain you and bring you better things in the years to come. Khemera sends his love, as do I, darling, my sweet and precious Abigail. 

Yours tearfully, 

Baird Joseph Amergin 

He stared at his signature, toeing the line between the paper and the desk beneath. Perhaps it was the last one he would ever write. Coherent thought left him as he buried his face in his hands and sobbed. 

******************** 

An orangish glow flickered over Keira's face as dusk settled around her. She sat on a conveniently flat projection of stone near the origin of the arch forming the cave's mouth. With a sigh, she leaned back into her rocky resting place and inhaled the aroma of cooking meat. 

Hours ago, the Innutukians had been forced to slaughter a herd of aggressive cave boars in order to settle into their new refuge with even a semblance of safety. Throughout the day, they'd skinned and cleaned the animals, and Ace now cooked the meat on an improvised cooking surface comprised of four poles driven into the ground, a fire, and one of the ballistic shields. With the shield resting atop the poles, he'd set a bundle of sticks ablaze underneath, and given time, the heat ascended, transforming the surface into a tolerable cooking appliance. 

Keira mused to herself how she'd never known Ace to be a man with any cooking ability, but now that she could see him standing before the sizzling cuts of meat, spatula poised to flip them whenever he deemed them ready, it looked so right. He tended to be like that, that mystery box of a man. He always seemed to have some skill or ability which he never mentioned until it suddenly surfaced at just the right time. 

Makes you wonder if it's only good things he's hiding. she thought. 

Eventually, he did flip the tenderloin, and a new wave of the smoky aroma wafted into Keira's nose. She sighed in pleasure and closed her eyes, as if that would give her olfactory organ a boost in perception. Then she heard him call her name, so they shot back open. 

Ace beckoned Keira over, so she hopped down and sprinted to him. She offered him a grin and waited for him to explain his reason for calling her. 

He cut a piece off the tenderloin with a fork, skewered it, let some of the glistening juices drip off, and gave it a visual once-over. "I need a taste tester." he said, raising the utensil to her mouth. 

Keira laughed and let Ace feed her the bite of meat. Her eyes brightened at the savory taste and tender texture, with hearty drippings that melted in her mouth and made chewing no difficult task. 

"Wow, that's really yummy." she finally said as her verdict. Her eyes carried volumes more approval of the cooking than her lips ever could. 

A hint of a smile tugged at the corners of Ace's mouth. "Good. Then you can have the rest of that one." 

Keira smiled and watched Ace scoop up the tenderloin with his spatula and place it on a paper plate. He handed her the fork and sent her off with a pat on the back. After thanking him, she stalked off to find somewhere to sit. 

She sat herself down in the grass in a spot where moonlight penetrated the ceiling of clouds and shone down like a spotlight. After she'd settled herself and eaten a few bites, she heard a low buzz to her left, accompanied by a similar tone an octave higher. 

Keira's gaze travelled to the source of the sound, where she found Trackenkaken sitting on a boulder, his back to a tree. In his hands, he held a strange instrument. Between his pursed lips vibrated a double reed, leading to a curved neck. The main body of the instrument, marked by a transition in material from metal to wood, was cylindrical in shape and continued for a few inches before it came to a third piece shaped like an upside down Y that split the airway in half. 

Down one side of the splitter piece projected a piece similar in thickness to the airway before it, which extended down about two feet and ended in a flared bell. Both Trackenkaken's hands gathered over it, with curved fingers covering a series of holes bored into the instrument. Nearer the end, a quartet of keys appeared, which occasionally clicked when the higher of the instrument's two voices travelled to its lowermost pitches. 

The other, lower voice evidently reverberated from the other half, which extended several feet further down and proved conical in shape. By the time it reached its larger, curved bell, it had doubled in thickness from the splitting point. On the side of the second half was fastened a metal ring, through which Track threaded his foot and slid the tubing in and out, altering the buzzy pitch as he did so. 

Altogether, the instrument had a somber tone, somewhat nasal in quality. With his fingers, Track played a dancing melody on the upper half, while his foot moved slower and held position longer, causing bass tones to ring out of the wide bell and form a solid platform for the melody to prance upon. 

Keira realized she'd forgotten to take a bite in a while, so focused she'd been on examining the instrument and listening to it. After slipping it through her lips, she reveled in delight from several senses. The well-cooked meat pleased her, both through its taste and smell, while the haunting melody did similarly for her ears. 

Her surroundings appeared scenic, with the flickering flame casting shadows over the outside walls of the cave, as well as Ace's face. Darkness deepened out of the fire's flickering light, though the moonlight trickled through select slits in the cloud cover, as if presenting specific items for her review. 

Only the things she felt could stand improvement, Keira thought. The damp grass she sat on chilled her hindquarters, and the breeze that swept in from the south caused her to pull her jacket tighter as well. 

She frowned when she spotted a female Innutukian soldier strutting away from Ace's improvised grill with a sizzling cut of meat on her plate. Her eyebrow raised. Hadn't Track told her that their women never fought? 

Convincing herself she was mainly moving for the sake of her damp pants, Keira rose to her feet and stepped closer to Track. She waited for him to finish his current tune before closing the rest of the distance and meeting his gaze. 

Track nodded pleasantly. "Hello, Keira. It's a lovely evening, isn't it?" 

Keira smiled. "Yeah, it really is. That's a nice instrument you've got there, by the way." 

"Yes, it's a dorein." he said proudly, "I've never seen anything like it in all the instrument families of the other nations." 

"Me either. Somehow, you never struck me as a musician type." 

Track chuckled lightly. "Some men use music as their main form of expression, dedicating their entire lives to it. Others are more like me, and come to a point at times where we require some way to release an overflow of emotion that's too much to be described in words." 

Keira paused for a moment and thought his statement over before nodding. "I can see that. I've certainly known people like that." 

"Your brother prefers to work it off, I can imagine." Track continued with a sliver of his teeth exposed in a smile. 

Keira laughed. "You know him well." After a pause, she cleared her throat. "So, I was also curious. I just saw a girl soldier over there, but you said your women never fight. So, what gives?" 

He narrowed his hazel eyes at her. "I said they seldom fight, if I recall correctly. And she's an exception, a member of a unique class in our society." 

"How so?" 

"Well, when a woman states a desire to serve as a soldier, by law, she must renounce her right to marry." 

Keira's lips parted and brow furrowed. "But...why?" 

Track shrugged. "Our culture has more clearly defined gender roles than elsewhere. Men fight and work, women watch over the home and kids." 

"Sounds pretty restrictive, if you ask me." 

"Not really. A woman can do whatever she wants, just she has to give up her right to marry if she takes certain paths typically delegated to men. Disputed as it is in our modern world, one must concede we rarely run into the problem where both husband and wife work, rendering daycare a necessity." 

"I guess so." she mumbled, biting her lip. 

"It also destroys the possibility of marital bonds conflicting with soldiers' loyalty. Spouses watching each others' backs exclusively could have quite disastrous consequences for the unit as a whole." 

"I can see that, I guess." Keira paused thoughtfully before returning her eyes to him. "So women like her are destined to a life of loneliness?" 

Track shrugged. "As I said, very few women choose such a life. Those who do often wouldn't have had much interest in marriage anyway, so the real restriction would be forcing them to do so. Others revel in their newfound liberation from the expectation of creating permanent bonds, and I'm sure your imagination can suggest the repercussions of that." 

Keira grimaced. "Oh boy." 

With a sigh, the Innutukian began unscrewing the segments of his dorein from each other. "Anyway...have you heard anything from your brother today?" 

"Not much." she replied, "Seemed really busy. Wendy told me he did meet with that Ryder dude and that he's now doing something hacking-related, something to compromise security scanners, I think." 

Track nodded. "I hope they succeed. I can't claim any great acquaintance to Mr. Amergin, but he seemed an honorable man." 

"He is." Keira trailed off with a bobbing head. With some effort, she swallowed. "I hope so too."

******************** 

A/N: That was one tear-jerker of a last letter, don'tcha say? I know it certainly made my eyes a bit watery writing it, so I hope that carried over. 

(Fun fact, I actually wrote Baird's letter first, and then the entire scene around it was added afterward as a sort of framework. Usually writing out of order at all hurts my brain, but this time it worked!) 

Well, after you vote (presumably 😂), how about you also leave a comment and give any thoughts on the Keira scene? And not sure if I've asked overall yet, but do you find Ace or Track to be a better match for her? 

And for our random question, this is pretty basic, I know, but what's something that makes you happy? 

(The first thing that came to my mind was when I try improvising a solo on the saxophone, and I actually end up playing exactly what I heard in my head. Sometimes the transition from mental idea to actual playing can be difficult, but it's great when I get it. 😁) 

That'll be all for me this morning! Have a great one, and I'll see you in tomorrow's update!