My dear Twinkle,

I hope this letter finds you well, and that your mission is meeting with success. It has been difficult for me to write you after the unhappy circumstances of our parting, but I had a bit of a near-miss a few days ago, and I realized that I will not live forever, the foolish ambitions of my youth aside.

I am writing to you in confidence to explain my actions, which you said were entirely unaccountable. I wish you had remained with me long enough that I could bring myself to explain these things in person. I know leaving the comforts of the old station, even as our Master has made the wasteland bloom, must seem odd. For thirty years I served him there, and if the place is home to you, despite your wanderings, it is even more so home to me. But my Master is not himself... he has grown distant and uncommunicative. Of course, he has always been taciturn, but you too must have noticed the change in recent years. I think there is a sinister, and growing, influence over him. I am seriously questioning the wisdom of certain bargains my Master made, of which I am not at liberty to speak. If I could, perhaps, it would make explaining a bit easier... but I gave my word and I cannot. You know what the price would be.

Please, do not share my concerns with our Master or anyone else, especially not with your sister.

Always your loving father,

- White Eyes