Family Letters: Alaric Rochefort

Letter from Lady Mechthild to Sir Otto (During Alaric's Childhood)

Year of the Emperor 267, Yule

My Lord Otto,

I write not in defiance, but in augury. Alaric, our son, is upon his seventh year. It is time for him to leave his mother and proceed to his father's forge. Yet I fear his softness leaves him exposed to the world he is about to enter.

He watches ants in the garden and speaks of their journeys as if they were knights on pilgrimage. He listens to tales of dragons not with the cold eye of a tactician, but with the heart of one who dreams. I do not say this to soften him, but to warn that such sentiment, if left untempered, may become a chink in his armor.

There is strength in wonder, my lord. But wonder must be forged into steel. I ask that you apply your discipline not to extinguish his flame, but to shape it—to make him strong without making him hollow.

He will be Hesan, yes. But let him be ready.

Yours in duty and devotion,

Mechthild

Letter from Sir Otto to Lady Mechthild (During Alaric's teenage years)

Year of the Emperor 275, Ostara

My Lady Mechthild,

I write now with the clarity of years, and the quiet satisfaction of a forge well-tended. You once warned me of Alaric’s softness, not as a flaw, but as a flame to be shaped. I remember your words, and I have watched their truth unfold.

Alaric stands now as a man of Hesan steel. He speaks with measured conviction, acts with precision, and bears the weight of duty without falter. The sentiment you feared would leave him exposed has not vanished—it has been buried. He does not speak of ants or dragons anymore, and I take this as proof of his transformation.

The softness you feared has been purged, and in its place stands resolve. If there is wonder in him still, it is silent. If there is feeling, it is mastered. He commands respect not by force alone, but by presence. He is not hollow. He is alloy.

You were right to caution me. And I was right to heed you, though I did so in silence.

He will be Hesan. He is ready.

Yours in shared legacy,

Otto

Letter from Sir Alaric to Sir Otto (Sitztange Encampment)

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Year of the Emperor 280, Beltane

My Lord Otto,

We arrived at Sitztange Encampment three days past the expected hour, owing to a rockslide that blocked the southern pass. I ordered a detour through the marshland, which cost us time but preserved the strength of the column. The men responded well to the change, and morale remains high.

The encampment itself is well-positioned, though the eastern perimeter required reinforcement. I oversaw the construction of a new palisade and assigned watch rotations to ensure readiness. The Rochefort battalion has settled in with discipline. I have taken care to instill the ancestral maxims in our evening briefings.

Alendrian scouts have been sighted at a distance, but no engagement has occurred. I have issued orders to hold formation and await further instruction. The men are eager, but I have reminded them that eagerness is not valor.

I have noted the way the fog settles over the valley in the early hours. It reminds me of the courtyard at Castle Rochefort in winter—how the mist would cling to the stone and soften the edges of the world. I find it clarifies the mind.

I have also taken time to review the tactical treatises you once gave me. They remain instructive. I carry them with me.

I trust this report finds you in good health and that the affairs of the house proceed with strength.

Your servant in duty,

Alaric

Unsent Letter from Sir Alaric to Lord Otto (After he kidnaps Elara)

Year of the Emperor 280, Beltane (Speculative)

My Lord Otto,

I write this for clarity. I do not know if these words will ever reach you, but I must set them down.

The matter of Princess Elara has weighed heavily upon me. I understood the logic—her surrender to the goblins would secure imperial stability, preserve the lives of thousands, and ensure the cohesion of our campaign. It was a service to the empire, and I resolved to see it done.

But resolution is not peace.

There are goods, I have come to believe, that exist beyond the bounds of order. And sometimes, those goods clash with the very structures we are sworn to uphold. I have never faced such a moment before.

As we flanked the caravan bearing her to the goblin kingdom, I heard her cries. They struck something within me—a chord of conscience long buried. I do not know what stirred, only that it did.

I stole her away.

I do not know what this makes me. A traitor to command? A servant of a deeper law? I could not let her be handed over like coin.

I will face what comes. But I needed you to know: I did not act lightly. I did not act without thought. I acted because something in me refused silence.

Your son,
Alaric