IV
Celestia, my love. My sweet. Flesh of my flesh. Did you feel me that night? Did you sense me standing on your balcony? Mayhaps by some chance of fate the gods did bring sensation of my presence to you.
The gods are clear.
Gifts of three are demanded.
As I was praying last night my blood split out of the chalice that I took from your kitchen, due to a rumbling of the ground, and three drops scattered themselves across the picture of you that encompasses the shrine.
Three drops.
Three gifts.
Clearly, the first gift was not enough. The gods demand two more dowries before I am allowed to cross your threshold, into the chamber where you rest.
Where I soon, too, will rest my weary head.
I was watching you for three hours; every hour I took one picture to number three.
It was such a sight to behold you at rest, my love!
Even while lain down by the fire, you are the mirror image of perfection, and I shall be the one to cast that reflection. For only when image and figure unite will a mirror's work be done.
I will send you these pictures as a sign of my love and dedication.
I will also give you this second doll that I have crafted in your form.
I hope you will understand the message.
For on the third day I will come.
And we shall be as one.
My love.