Wandering slowly to his room, Amano goes over the meeting. Despite the explosion by the father the young man decides it was a success. [i]'Although I am sure Illiendi will have some critiques, I hope he agrees'[/i] He hangs his head a bit at the memory of how the demon had to dig him out of that hole he'd put himself in. [i]'But. . .But that is what he is for after all. . .At least. . .'[/i] He lets out a sigh, lifting his head back up as a servant comes into view. Giving the middle aged man a smile and a polite nod he picks up the pace to his room and arrives without seeing anyone else. Once inside he finds himself too restless to get to work immediately and instead heads over to his window.

Throwing it open he practically collapses on the sill and lets the early morning breeze rush over his upper body. A faint shiver runs through his body as the wind ruffles his hair and clothing, but he ignores it. [i]'I feel so overwhelmed by all this. Whenever I get thinking about this plan, all I can think is that it is too much for me. After all, I really have n experience with all this, and the one who does have the experience is a demon who has his own agenda, his own reasons for doing the things he does, and who probably sees me as as weak and pathetic as everyone else. Perhaps even more so, seeing as he is an amazing immortal being to whom all of this is child's play'[/i] He lets out a long sigh and ruffles his hair. “What am I doing?”

Below him the alley between houses one of the gardeners goes by with a bucket and some tools and the 'young master' of the house watches with vague interest as she smiles at nothing in particular. [i]'She looks happy. . .I wonder why? She is a servant in a house of a rich man, yes, but said rich man is a horny, drunk, stingy slob most of the time. He never hands out bonuses, and he does not allow family members to work together, so she hardly gets to see them I am sure. It has got to be horrible working here. . .And that is not even mentioning my brothers. . . .'[/i] He lets out another long sigh as she walks out of sight, now singing softly to herself. [i]'Maybe I should just content myself with the fate allotted me and try and find whatever happiness life has to offer right. . .here. . .'[/i]

Memories flood back in of the night Illiendi was summoned, his fear, and how with a simple phrase he'd sent many of the most notable people in town down into the gutter, and some, six feet under. Raising a hand he looks at it idly. [i]'I did all that without lifting a finger, but it was not me, it was him. He rejected all of them, and took to me, the sacrifice instead. He must have had a reason, and I never ordered him to accept my idea, he did that of his own free will. If he really thought I was not up for it, then I'm sure he would not waste his time with me'[/i] Pushing himself up his runs his fingers over the brand Illiendi gave him and smiles softly. A touch of his confidence returns and with one last look out the window he turns and heads to his desk. 

The light breeze makes a few of the loose papers upon it shift, but after he settles in he pins them down rather than close the window. [i]'It may be city air, but it is still fresher than the musty smell permeating this entire house'[/i] Pulling out a clean parchment he decides to write the letters to the female prospects first, knowing that most of them will not take long. He starts with the girls his father chose, each one taking less than ten minutes and each nearly identical. He does however add little bits here and there, using things he remembers from their childhood to personalize the notes. When at last he comes to his dear friend, the one he is determined to be more honest with, he takes out a bit of his fancier stationary, dips his quill, and then for three minutes straight sits with the tip hovering over his paper. He tries desperately to put together something plausible. Something that even if someone else reads it will not contradict what he will have to tell the public, but will at the same time reveal more of the truth of the matter to his friend than what will be publicly known. When at last he puts pen to paper, he lets out a long breath, and writes slowly in his best hand.

[i]Dear Laiza,

[center]I am writing to you to inform you of something important that is going to be happening in my life. You have been a dear friend to me for many long years, and I am sure you will understand why I have not told you of these plans sooner. I am leaving. I, with a man I have hired for the occasion, will be heading out in just a few days for a place across the ocean. It will be dangerous, and I may never see you again, however I hope you will not think me a fool for doing this.

I have long shared with you my desires for something more, to live a life I could be proud of, and recent events have presented the opportunity to do so. My new manservant, Illiendi, has faith in me, and with his skills and training, I am sure I will succeed in my quest. You know I do not fear challenge, and this will be one of if not the greatest challenge I will ever face.

I will write you often, knowing you will look forward to my letters, and when I can I will send you more tokens of my affection. I recall now how much you adore that trinket I pulled from the harbor depths, the way your eyes shined. I will work hard to live through this ordeal in hopes of seeing that look again. You know how I feel about you, and I will hold that emotion in my heart for as long as I live, and perhaps even after.

I wish you all of the luck I can offer in your current venture, and am saddened that I may very well not be around to see you succeed. Do not let your brother's teasing get you down, and know that if I were there I would take a blade to him to defend you any time. 

I do hope you will co-[/center][/i]

The sudden knock on the door startles the young man, however he manages to lift his quill and not blotch the parchment when his body jerks. Turning to glance over his left shoulder he spots Illiendi coming in and offers a light smile before turning back to his letter.

[i][center]-ome to see me off, or perhaps even visit before then. We could talk a bit on important matters, and I know your curiosity will not be sated until I let you in on some finer details. I may be out and about for the next few days, so please be sure to send a runner first to make sure I am home. If I do not see you before I leave however, please allow me to bid you farewell, and to leave you with this parting gift.

All my affection,

Amano[/center][/i]

Putting down his quill Amano sets aside the finished letters to the other girls and motions to them, looking over at Illiendi. “Um, could you look these over? Make sure I did not mess up my spelling, or forget to add something. . .” Looking back to Laiza's letter he smiles and pulls open one of his drawers. Grabbing out his scissors and a small length of thread. Loosing his hair he takes a small pinch of it in his fingers and ties the thread less than an inch from the tips. Making sure it is tied good and tight he snips off the lock a short ways above the thread and sets it on the desk. He smiles at it, hopping up and rushing over to his bedside table.

As he rummages around inside he looks over at the demon with a slight grin. “It is an old tradition and will project, at least a little bit, that image that you were looking for. You know, me leaving behind a wife or lover of some sort?” Finding what he was looking for he rushes back to the desk. A long thin length of red ribbon trails from his fingers down on to the desk and for a second he stares at it. [i]'Normally a simple bow would suffice, but. . . .'[/i] Looking over at Illiendi he gives the demon a curious look. “The ribbon is suppose to be tied in a bow around the lock, where the string is. I could do a simple one, but. . . .Would you be able to do something fancier? I think Laiza would like that. . .” As he holds out the ribbon to the demon his other hand slips out to pick up his letter to his friend, pretending to look it over. He knows it's a bit childish, and rather foolish, but for some reason he doesn't want the taller male reading it. The letters to the other girls were all business, but he would have written Laiza a letter no matter what.