Friends At The Table

Has the news reached you, friend? A group of merchants form Rosemerrow told me today that a new wing to the Old Museum in Westshore-Upon-Sea is opening next month. (How I wish we could walk its halls and debate the merits of its exhibits—but ah, it’s more than snow that separates us these days.)  So instead, let me ask you a question, dearest Arrell… The Creed of Samothes is clear that Truth is a reflection of His Holy Light, and should be pursued above all else. Yet I recall from our early lessons that you hold a case for falsehood, too. ‘Even His Sun,’ you told me ‘is a well-meaning deceit, as it appears above us, celestial, yet was built from (and some say, remains in) the ground itself.” I will not open old wounds—I do not want you to convince me of this heresy—I only wonder: Do you still believe it? Yours, always, in heedless faith… This week on Winter in Hieron: A Museum in the Distance Alyosha, in your ardor (for me or Samothes, who can say), you have misremembered my lesson. I never said that a false