Beyond These Waters - Letter 2

Read the return letter delivered by the Navarre crow, Derigo, on his perilous journey…

Jan 09, 2026

Deliverer: Derigo Crowforst (Navarre 137).

From: Magnol Acacius’ makeshift safe house, Sunken Lands of St. Venira

To: Sylvie Crowforst’s house in the northeast of the main island of Vereterra (Derigo’s home) but for the attention of (FAO) Professor Virna Salo.

Of note: Return recuperation and notice of interception provided by Spindlewood, Reveria.

Dear Professor,

Spindlewood intercepted the Navarre crow:

Derigo Crowforst, service number 00137, registered to Atlas August Crowforst.

Details of stay:

1) Respite and health check – Spindlewood has nourished, hydrated, bathed, balanced, and recuperated Derigo. He sustained an injury to his left wing, consistent with Barb Bulb blast, successfully treated with Viola Violum.

2) Information gathering – Derigo shared the contents of his package of letters, information deemed crucial to helping your islands and to aiding the Meanderway as a whole, with the potential to change the trajectory of the Enduring Wars. Spindlewood has filled in the missing letters, articles, and other papers where possible.

3) Threat detection – rated exceedingly high. Navarre hunters of the Legion of Letters control all four main tributaries of the River Bled, though hunters first attacked Derigo as he flew north over the Saboteur Seas. The Insular Brawn has gone as far as sent planes to take out Navarres. You can count the number left on one hand – aeroplanes and messenger crows - but the threat remains lethal.

Our agreement:

Spindlewood will hereby notify and safeguard Derigo of threats and forward all information useful to your cause. In return, you agree to be called upon in the name of friendship, and as part of our mission to reconnect the good folk of the Meanderway.

Advice and mitigation:

Watch the skies and never release Derigo in heavy cloud - he will be easier to spot. Additionally, Spindlewood encloses Mergi seeds. Plant these immediately to throw trackers off the scent. The smoke released from Mergi will nullify ill intent (it will cause metal birds to crash and erase the hunt from memory; it will end the Legion of Letters).

Mergi flower all year round but are most potent in spring. Plant the seeds a foot apart in shade, feed with river water in sunlight but seawater in moonlight.

We enjoyed nursing wonderful Derigo back to full health; he is welcome anytime. Please find overleaf your letter from Dr Magnol Acacius.

We are sorry about your friend.

Spindlewood Witches

Spindlewood,

Reveria,

Southwest Meanderway

FAO: Professor Virna Salo,

Head of History at South Rucklands, Founder of the Welfare through the Ages Advisory Board, Chair of the End Recurring Denial of Research (ERDR) Committee,

1 Riverbay Coast,

Islands of Vereterra,

Southwest Meanderway

Dear Professor Salo,

I must skip the courtesies and tell you that Dr Marta Verdom is dead.

It doesn’t feel right to continue writing after such a cruel statement, it didn’t feel right to continue doing anything after finding her like that, them all like that – but I allowed myself a fortnight before agreeing that there would be time to grieve later. Though, I have travelled the depth of the Meanderway and I know now that there cannot be time enough to mourn every individual, and I feel a great sorrow for those with no one left to remember them.

I sincerely thank you for sending this letter. If not for your Navarre crow, Derigo, cawing and tapping his beak incessantly at my office window, I worry that I would have never woken up. In my stupor, I managed to heave an arm and let the bird in, whereupon he presented me with Dolorhunt – a drop on the tongue and the poison tore out of me.

Who tried to kill me?

Against your crow’s best efforts, I stumbled down the stairs and into our department’s main meeting room. The sight was one I will never forget: all my colleagues, my friends, slumped in chairs, an inky blue residue in their teacups. The crow was relentless, scratching and flapping, and I had to leave them all like that. Dead. Soon I will study the toxin and trace its origins, and then I will avenge my friends.

Derigo had other plans for me. He teased me with the letter addressed to my dear Marta but did not let me read it until he had escorted me south down the entire Meanderway, to where Marta laid. Ten days, it took, and I was so in my own mind, sat there at that terrifying table, that I did not worry about any dangers. On reflection, there were many. Derigo and I passed through the notorious Backwood Intent, but the flora caused us no harm; we boarded trains run by the Ramus Rebels, but no one robbed or arrested us; we camped in haunted keeps without any hauntings, and we sailed on illegal boats without permit. Another realisation I had when recounting our stops along the journey: your Navarre crow also searched for something or someone else. Derigo did not look for a safe path but for the person he longed for (I understood his gaze).

The entrance to Marta’s dwellings, as you know, is a secret, one she kept to protect her research findings, however, there is no person on the Meanderway, living or dead, that Derigo cannot find. I can’t comment on the true cause of Marta’s death, other than to say that, like my friends, her inquisitiveness and determination to uncover the truth assuredly played their parts – beautiful but dangerous traits in our times. I have ensured that no others, should they come looking, will ever find Marta. She deserved so much more.

Now, to reply to your letter, though I am doubtful you will trust the view of an Idle Peninsulan, a sorry citizen of the winning nation. Our king and country started these prolonged wars, and I willingly volunteered to fight alongside my neighbours. I was a fool, a fool that believed what he was told. It is hard not to, when the horrors happening overseas fill the newspapers and feed you with account after harrowing account of oppressed people subject to oppressive occupations and begging for liberation. I learnt the uncomfortable truth when I went on my first campaign: we were the oppressors. And then I left, and then I met Marta…

I am sorry to hear of the troubles plaguing Vereterra. As a small archipelago far from the reaches of the Insular Brawn, I hoped you and your people were spared. We used to dream of such places, isolated pockets of peace where you would be free to live, dream and love. Dreaming is maladaptive; it is reality that needs our full attention, our fight. The reality is that this has been going on for much longer than we thought.

Virna, I speak to you now as a friend. Marta trusted you a great deal and I therefore trust you a great deal. I will share with you what I know, and I will pray that you find the answers to your questions. I have read Eira Bluewood’s story, as had Marta, but none of us read it as a warning. The death masks, diseases, advanced plants, and returning dead – it is the ordinary folk that notice while the privileged play war.

Enclosed are letters from soldiers, tradespeople, and detectives; newspaper clippings, Fervent Flora journal letters, and odd obituaries; suspect invitations, worrying propaganda and other unusual documents, all gathered by Marta. I have tried to organise them chronologically, but some responses are missing, perhaps stolen. I pray to the Watergods that all this will help you find answers and save your people.

Please send any correspondence to my usual address - I hope to make it back there, to that table. If I do not, well, I expect the bird will still find me regardless.

Do not give up hope.

Your new friend,

Magnol