majorsilence

1. In the third month of his exile, whilst lying beneath a enormous elm, Amicete chose to break his oath and began to write a short letter. A friend and fellow acolyte from the village of his island home had been present in his thoughts for some time and he could no longer endure the burden of solitude.

2. He wrote of a circle of stones where the druids had given him strength and guidance, of a strange priestess who had shown him warmth and lighted the darkest places of his heart, and of the cascading hills which brought him peace and to which he was condemned.

3. Slipping the quill into his robes once more, he wondered if his dear friend was still alive and what had become of him. Thus spake Amicete as he pressed his lips to the script for its safe journey and cast it into the word-consuming wind:

4. "Happy belated birthday."

5. Amen.