Letter: Remember Us

**Letter: Remember Us** is a letter that can be delivered to a player's Mailbox by a high-ranking pet in Correspondence. It is the fourth of a series of letters from Sharuminyinka.

## Attachments

When a pet delivers **Letter: Remember Us**, they will also deliver a Dreamwalker's Magic Mirror.

## How to Unlock

To become eligible to receive **Letter: Remember Us**, certain conditions must be fulfilled:

* The player must have previously received Letter: A Lonely Island.

About 14 days must pass after receiving Letter: A Lonely Island before **Letter: Remember Us** can be received.

Once the conditions are fulfilled, active pets in the house have a chance of receiving **Letter: Remember Us** from a courier.

## Contents

*(Receiving Pet) was delivered this letter by a courier: (Delivery Pet).*

I was on the islands for six days. Resting. Waiting. Thinking. Building, or trying to.

I learned that I am certainly not a goddess of the sea: I cannot build a boat, raft, or anything seaworthy. I am quite good at destroying such vessels, however, so perhaps I could be one of those sea goddesses that takes the lives of sailors with dark storms, giant waves, and leviathans.

Doesn't seem to fit, somehow.

This afternoon, while thinking about these things, I watched something approach: a small raft with an even smaller shelter on it, piloted by a young boy, although I suppose he would prefer to be referred to as a man.

He was certainly not my caretaker. His name is Tifkli, and while he seems capable for his age, he is no more wise for it. His naïveté - and quick infatuation with me - were plain to see. He is honest, at least, which is good, both because he doesn't have the experience to be a liar, and because I'm feeling impatient after almost a week of failed shipwrightmanship.

Tifkli came from a village of islanders with an uncommon tradition: when their children "come of age" - at only years 15 - they leave their island in search of another. The first island they find, they settle, and the cycle continues.

The boy had expected to find a populated island, but admitted that the possibility of finding an uninhabited one was something he'd prepared for. He says he'll wait years if he must, farming, fishing, and building. He assumed I had come to the island in the same way. When I explained my situation - or as much as I was comfortable - he was disappointed, of course, but remained logical. Again: he is not good at hiding his feelings, but it seems he's at least self-aware enough to realize when his feelings aren't serving him. I suppose a people who raise their children to travel alone across the ocean must prioritize a sort of survivalist logic, at least. He was even willing to give me his raft, after some discussion.

I'm on the open sea again, and I should feel better, but I don't. I feel like I've freed myself of the islands, only to find myself a slave to the currents. And I don't like being this close to the water. I catch glimpses of it, even if I don't mean to, and images from my dreams come back. Some of them are interesting - mysteries I want and need to solve - but others are unsettling. None of them are fun, or relaxing. All require attention. Thought. Analysis. It's tiring. I spent centuries in Gizubi's gardens. Why can't I dream of those times?

Rereading my letter, I realize how dreadful I must sound. How depressed. I'm just tired. I knew searching for Tig would be hard. I suppose that's why I wasted those centuries with Gizubi's court. But I'm searching now. If nothing else, these dreams have given me new questions. I'll find my way out of here; I'll get answers; I'll find Tig.

Remember us.

*— Sharuminyinka*