Toil and trouble
My Dearest Son,
This note I leave with your mother, if I should not live long enough to tell you myself.
You know how we faced a crisis. How we had to reduce our people in order to survive. As a church official it was my job to offer comfort to those selected. I was the last face they saw before they entered the booth.
My dreams have been troubled of late. The faces of those that passed those doors visit me every night. One stands out, Captain Hobson. In my dream he stands with three old women behind him, and points at me. I wouldn’t tell you about this, but he speaks of you. He says;
“The one you serve is not true.
A bane he will bring unto you.
A captain never you shall be
yet your son will follow me.
Since I first held you as an infant, I knew you were special, destined for great things. I want you to grow up to be the best that you can be, and to take what we have given you, and build upon it.
I know you will do what is right and honorable.
Your loving father,