Catherine my love,
I remember the day we first fell upon the beaches of our freedom. At the time, I thought you were this world’s creator; it was beautiful, intricate, and perfect. I should have realized then that it was not your style. You were always one to be fantastically obscure, to take the mind to places unimaginable by most. The twists and strange, yet wonderful details of your thoughts were always portrayed in your writing. At the time of our arrival however, none of this mattered. We were free from danger, free of Gehn, and we were alone. I fell in love with you that first night on the island. I did not realize it at the time, but when I held you in my arms as we overlooked the moonlight, eerily still in its reflection upon the ever moving waters, that this was the defining moment of my feelings for you. We were warm, we were safe, I was delivered from a great weight that had been following me most of my life, and all of yours. Could I have been drawn to you through these associations? Perhaps initially, but now my feelings began to rest in you specifically. I was, from that moment, devoted to you. My inhibitions were swept away as the sand I covered my feet with between approaching waves. Logic and worries of emotional injury were willingly cast aside; I would accept any repercussions of my feelings for you. Regardless of how things turned out, all that mattered to me was the girl in my arms on that beach written just for us. I hope to see you again soon, and I must continue to help the inhabitants of the Mechanical Age. The Black Ships are continuing to pose as a threat, despite the additions to the fortress.