I must admit, I'm really not sure what to say about all of this. Thank you for waiting until you have a substantial amount to send to me, at least. Dear threw a little tantrum about about this "We have received messages over the last few days" bit, but I appreciate having an initial digest to work with so that I'm not left a fretting mess (as you say you were) by the simple news that, oh look, aliens! I threatened to bundle it up in blankets for a few hours, though, and it calmed down. I may do so anyway.
Four races! Five thousand years! One language! Have you learned any of that, yourself? How is May then My name taking it? You mention True Name, but have you heard from any other Odists? Any other friends? If the System is anything like Pollux, people are talking about little else.
This is all incredibly wild, I have to say. The news broke over here much as it sounds as though it has done on the L<sub>5</sub> System: with tightly controlled excitement.
There is no doubt that the powers that be continue their work across all three Systems, but it's always fascinating to see. The amount of bafflement was outweighed by the amount of excitement, and outweighed in turn the amount of fear. Everyone's eager for every scrap of news that they can get.
How much of the delay in sending word to us was due to True Name and her friends? I imagine she had words about the first message, at least, but a whole week's worth of messages feels like a good deal.
No matter, though. We're all eagerly awaiting every little snippet that we can get from you. I know that you won't get this for another, what, seven days? Eight? And that seven or eight days from when you sent it! I know you won't get it for a few weeks, but please know that you're free to pass on information directly from here on out! We'll be learning plenty from the news we're allowed to see over here, anyway, so any juicy tidbits in addition to that will be greatly appreciated.
I am continually confronted with the ways in which we have diverged. May Then My Name and Dear#Castor mentioned how upset they were by the idea of time manipulation, but my Dear...well, it did not seem pleased with the idea, but its reaction was not nearly so visceral. It simply got a sour look on its face and said *"I do not like the idea of a place where I cannot fork. Can you imagine a place so boring?"*
**BĂLAN CLADE-EYES-ONLY MATERIAL FOLLOWS**
The last few years have seen a drastic reduction in the amount of times that Dear has 'overflowed'. I don't know if ey's been passing on every instance from Castor, or if you have been passing on every letter in turn, but it sounds like the same is true of Dear#Castor as well, for which I'm thankful.
I'm sorry to hear about May Then My Name, though. Discussion of 'cracks showing' always seems to crop up whenever one of our loved ones goes through a rough period such as this, and your news spurred a conversation between the three of us plus Serene, and despite the relative quiescence of Dear's symptoms, such as they are, we have noticed an uptick of oddities in Odists over here, as well. Not just Odists, of course, but a few of the older clades. Hell, a Jonas even went haywire a few weeks back.
Still, I'm happy to hear that everyone's tallies are lining up well: far fewer old clades over here are experiencing such symptoms than feared after the publication of *Perils*, for which just about everyone is happy. No one wants to deal with an impending burden of insanity on one's two hundredth anniversary, so to hear that it's only a fraction and that maybe there's something that can be done (or so we here; has there been news of psychotherapy as a treatment over there? I've been hearing whispers) has kept the population at large from freaking out. I imagine you have it worse, though, given the relative skew towards dispersionistas on the LVs; I bet early taskers are freaking out.
Either way, Ioan, I am concerned for you and your partner. Our lives are informed by trauma, and the trauma that we hold in particular leads to a sort of conservatism that is particularly focused on our loved ones. I know that you want nothing more than to see May Then My Name continue to thrive, and I know that seeing her struggle is incredibly painful as it touches on the roots of those very same traumas. I know that the two of you will make it through alright, but, as this is in the clade-eyes-only section, do remember to keep yourself safe. You have Douglas. You have A Finger Pointing. You have Carolyn (who you'll have to tell me more about, sometime; she sounds fascinating). When you need, nudge May Then My Name to her support network and lean on hers when you need.
The following is in strict confidence with you and you alone, Ioan.
I don't know how much of our messages between each other that you've read, or if that would even have helped, but watching the slow individuation of a loved one is an experience unique even from watching oneself individuate. The Dear I am in love with feels much like the Dear I fell in love with decades ago, and yet slowly the Dear on Castor begins to feel like a stranger to me.
Dear#Castor sounds so much more conservative than what I'm used to. The prairie remains the same. The house remains the same. Codrin#Castor's struggles with agency and directedness in life feel as unfamiliar to me as you have mentioned. You have taken control of your life as I have taken control of my own, each in our own way. To put this on the Odists feels at once unfair, unfortunate, and totally accurate. May Then My Name has changed you in some irreversible way, just as Dear changed me so many years ago. Changed you, too, for when we merged, you were no longer the same Ioan that remained behind. You were the type of Ioan who could fall in love with May Then My Name in the first place.
So when Dear gave up the prairie and dragged Serene over to build out our little world into something grander, a place more well-rounded than just flat plains, we were all both surprised and not because, hey, this was Dear, right? So we built out our world. And then that spur-of-the-moment shift redirected our lives in unforeseen ways. With the acceptance of variety, Serene moved in to continue her work, and then her elliptical orbit passed through our lives for a while before she drifted away again.
I am not ashamed of having wound up, for that one short year, in a relationship with two members of the same clade. None of us are, not even Dear, it promises. It's not shame that keeps me from telling those on Castor about this. It is the completely alien nature that those who fell as though they ought to *be* us interact with the world that leads to such. I do not feel as though I am able to tell Codrin#Castor about what happened because to do so feels like explaining the alien to someone who really, truly, in all ways ought to know. Ey ought to be able to feel the same things that I feel, correct? Ey must, for ey is me, is ey not?
And yet ey is not. I cannot bring up our relationship with Serene because Codrin#Castor --- that is, specifically me#Castor --- does not have the same thoughts around interclade romantic relationships that I do, and by virtue of the direction that the Odists steered us (or, as feels more accurate, crashed headlong and heedless) we are now completely different in that way.
The Dear that I live with has, in comparison to Dear#Castor, relaxed and moved on to an approach to life that is far more laid back. As a result, we *all* have, me included.
Also, as an internal postscript, I should note that we are all still deeply in love with Serene, and she with us, but good Lord. Two foxes in the same house? Never again.
This is the end of the private content of the letter. Please redact this in its entirety should you pass my thoughts on to Castor.
**END BĂLAN CLADE-EYES-ONLY MATERIAL**
I am settling in quite well at the university and they are as excited as I am to receive the inevitable dump of information that comes from Artemis. It is a librarian's dream. I have seen quite the bump in my reputation, oddly enough, just by having my cocladist's name attached to the project over on Castor. No complaints, but honestly, what is a librarian to do with reputation?
Pass on our love to May Then My Name and tell her that we are all incredibly happy to hear that you both have made it through this latest spell with no more broken noses.
Codrin#Castor, know that you've got us backing you as well. The world lies before you and is not nearly so black and white as you imagine. Search for those shades of gray that allow you to take a step forward.
It's been more than twenty years (or forty, if you count splitting from you, Ioan), and it still feels incredibly weird talking myself up, doesn't it? If nothing else, take it from yourself that it's possible.
