Rae van Daleon – The Roots of the Storm

by Lea von Löwenstein

Chapter 54: A Letter in the Shadows

One quiet evening, as the barracks settled into the soft rhythm of sleep, Rae sat at her bunk, her blade resting across her lap. She was sharpening its edge with slow, methodical strokes, her mind drifting between the day’s trials and the mysteries still lingering within the Scola.

A faint rustling drew her attention. She turned her head sharply, her hand instinctively gripping the hilt of her blade. Nothing. Just the breeze through the half-open window. Yet, when she glanced back, she noticed a folded piece of parchment sitting on her footlocker—a letter that hadn’t been there moments before.

Frowning, she picked it up, her fingers brushing the fine, textured paper. It was sealed with no crest or insignia, just a simple fold. She hesitated, glancing around the dim barracks to ensure no one was watching, before breaking the fold and unfolding the letter. The handwriting inside was elegant, deliberate, and unfamiliar.

To Rae van Daleon,

They say the strongest steel is forged in the hottest fire, and I have seen you burn brighter than any star. Your resolve cuts through doubt as surely as your blade slices the air, and your presence commands even the most stubborn of minds. You stand at the center of everything, and yet, you seem so unaware of the light you carry.

I have watched you—not in the way of spies or shadows, but as one who admires from afar, too hesitant to step closer. Your leadership inspires not just your team, but those of us who have struggled to find purpose in this relentless place. You fight not for glory, but for those you’ve lost and those who stand beside you. That, more than anything, is what makes you extraordinary.

You may not know me. Perhaps you never will. But I want you to know this: your strength is not unnoticed, and your presence is not forgotten. In the darkness of this galaxy, you are a beacon, even if you do not see it yourself.

I do not write this to burden you with expectation or hope for recognition. I write because sometimes words must be spoken, even if they never find their way to an answer.

Whatever trials lie ahead, know that there are those who believe in you—not just as a warrior, but as a person. May the Emperor guide you, Rae, and may your light continue to burn.

Yours,

A Friend

Rae read the letter twice, her expression unreadable. For a long moment, she sat in silence, the parchment resting lightly in her hands.

“Rae?” Celestine’s voice broke the quiet, her tone groggy. “What are you doing sitting there?”

“Nothing,” Rae said quickly, folding the letter and slipping it into her jacket pocket. “Go back to sleep.”

Celestine mumbled something unintelligible and turned over, leaving Rae alone once more.

She glanced at the window, then back at the footlocker where the letter had been. Her mind churned with questions, but for now, there were no answers. All she knew was that someone out there believed in her more deeply than she could have imagined.

And somehow, that thought made her feel a little less alone.