This fourth part of Letters of Ovelia follows Part 3, where the warrior replies to the technicians letter.
We also have a new concept art attached at the end.
Suong, I try my best to understand the past, but I sometimes feel like it doesn't really matter whether or not it really happened. I've always felt disconnected from all the historical records from before the Breakdown, even when I've taken them to heart. Studying the works of Dr. Adams on gravitational technology and Sun Tzu's on the art of war has saved my life more than once, but did these people ever exist? Or are they just legends, which we attached these teachings to? You have told me many stories, and most of them have been true. I hope I can repay you in part by telling you about stories which weren't.
Before I came to Beihai, I travelled. I wasn't alone back then, but sometimes, the nights would be much quieter than here. We'd be crossing through hostile territory – be it brigands, corporations or fragments of old national military – and all lights would be out at the camp. We wouldn't speak, but when I was a child, we would whisper. Our parents let us because we would lay awake if we had to stay silent, and so we had free reign to make up whatever we wanted in our stories to put each other's minds at ease. These whispered stories, maybe age-old, maybe made up on the spot, were the best stories.
Although the plot would subtly change even for what was supposed to be the same story, the theme was invariably the same: someone stubbornly held onto a container of information – a book, a letter, a data disc, a hard drive – and was eventually rewarded by discovering that the information within held the key to long-lost mysteries, the weaknesses of a dreaded enemy, or the whereabouts of a missing friend. The prop for the story would be whatever we'd managed to find that day that could be the mysterious information container. Of course, it didn't actually have to be readable in real life for the story to make sense. It was just to be held up and admired in the moonlight.
There was a theme in these whispered stories that never surfaced during those loudly spoken when our parents were with us, which was the choice of this information over weaponry. In one tale, there were three brothers: the two older inheriting their father's rifle and handgun, and the younger inheriting his foreign-language book, which later proved to be invaluable. We were all taught to use rifles and knives during the day, and although we understood that our survival would depend on these things, they weren't the stuff that dreams were made of. A gun could keep the enemy away, but we all knew, or hoped, that hidden knowledge would be what could bring any enemy down.
So why would I take any lessons from a child's imagination? Why not? Although we may have made these stories up then and there, they haven't proven any less true to me than Sun Tzu's military strategies or Dr. Adam's physics. I still turn every stone and check every book, every disc and hard drive we find that could teach us something we don't know. I know it's the only way to repair these 100 years of a broken world, and I know it's the only way to bring down Feng. I may be a warrior, but if I needed two hands to carry knowledge with me, I wouldn't hesitate to put my gun down.
Your friend,
Angelica “Strike” da Bago
For more Letters of Ovelia, see Part 3: Fragments and Part 5: Lift.
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cool :)