Letter to Writer from Protagonist
Dear Maren,
You gave me ears that can hear the sorrow of roots and eyes that see what others cannot. Yet you placed me in a world where my voice is called madness and my truths are met with flame.
Why must I always lose before I learn? Why must the trees suffer before I am believed?
I walk barefoot because the soil tells stories—did you know that? You made me this way. You gave me reverence, not weapons. You taught me to listen, but gave me no one who listens in return.
And yet, I forgive you.
Because deep down, I know you are trying to show them something. That what is wild is not weak. That what is gentle is not powerless.
I only ask this: let me become. Let me rise not as a martyr, but as a mirror. Let them see what they’ve lost before they forget how to feel.
Yours in the hush of leaves,
Elara