The parchment unfurls and stretches out like a lazy cat, blank it seems. Delicate to the touch, yet it does not crumble. Once it has unfurled, there's a short flash in the air above it, like a symbol on fire. As it crumbles, ash drifts down, and where it settles, letters do appear on the parchment.

She has not left him with a spell or a skill or anything that anyone could have purchased at her booth.

Instead, she has left him the following words:

Dear Bruce,

you're the first person to ever receive a letter from me. I'd be inclined to impress upon you what an honour this is... but I'm just so excited.

Speakers, you see, are all about telling stories and passing things on orally. I've recently learned to greatly value the written word as well - so much more practical, so much more permanent. And what an opportunity to embark upon a journey of appreciation with you as my unwitting side-kick.

All enthusiasm aside, I hope you were good and waited to open this letter, because otherwise it would have set itself ablaze. Overzealous perhaps, but what can I say. As the story about Trevor should have taught you, I do not stand for rudeness. Of course, I know you'll have been a dear and waited, and so I hope this letter finds you well.

The last three days have been so lovely, and you have been a beacon even among your fascinating peers (I have a sense of humour, see, I dearly hope you can appreciate or at least not loathe it, the joke was just too good to be passed up). Please know our time treasured, and your friendship a memory I will carry forwards.

Thank you, for sharing your heart with me so openly, and entrusting me with all those things that are difficult to say. Speaking of, my people are nomadic - strange then that I find hello and good-bye among the hardest, saddest words to use. I have therefore elected not to use them at all, and instead place more words here for you to suffer the penmanship of. Like this, I will only ever have said hello to you, but will not truly be forced to say good-bye.

You therefore have to suffer me calling you a wonderful and dear young man, and have no choice but by reading this letter to accept my adoration and long-distance companionship.

Your friend who chooses to believe you find her nothing short of delightful despite these ramblings,

Sypha

PS: I will be most unhappy with you if you opened this prematurely and I wasted all my words!

PPS: Perhaps not stones and initials, but traditions are what strengthen those familial bonds

Should he roll the parchment up again, he will find the letters disappearing until he unfurls the paper.