Dearest friend,

I'm writing to you in order to get get some things off my mind. My life, my world was completely shaken up about an year ago. You know me, I don't startle easily, heck I don't get excited easily. If I were to be true to myself, I don't experience a lot from the human spectrum of emotion. At least not as often, or as intense as your average human. I still remeber when Sebastian, during one of our early lover's quarell asked me with tears in his eyes if I'm even human. Fond memories. Also, just for the heck of pointing it out, I am a skeptic. Was a skeptic. I don't even know anymore. I'm having a hard time wrapping my head around what's happening, though I'd never be as weak as to admit that in front of anybody. However, I do have to speak to somebody about this. Even I can't bottle these things up, so I chose you as my confidant. You must be flattered, huh!? Not seeing me in over an year, or even receiveing a phone call from me, asking how you've been. Or a text. Well, sorry, but I've been a busy bee...

A lot has happened since we last saw each other. If I'm repeating myself, I am entitled to do so. Really, A LOT has happened.

I've seen wonders, I've seen nightmares, not even my own. That's enough to shake up anyones sheltered little piece of world. Of reality.

But enough of beating around the proverbial bush. I'll take you directly into the heart of my adventures. Hmmm... This is a bit ironic. Me, dear little Sofie, who only used to play adventure games on the PC, exploring wonderous, larger than life worlds through the perspective of April Ryan, or Kate Walker, or even Sam & Max, now seems to be the protagonist of the biggest adventure known to humanity. And it's not a game. It's serious, though a bit fun I must admit. It's certainly more exciting than when I've jumped off the Royal Gorge Bridge. And I thought that will be the height -haha, see what I did there?- of my thrill seeking experiences.

I digressed again.

Since I've been in touch, honey, I met, befriended, but mostly fought off things that only Krieg, Lovecraft or Moffat could have come up with. I've shared a latte with an ancient mummy, I've been mocked by jinns, I ate a taco made by a ghoul. I've fought Romero's zombies, I've seen the whole "birth" process of the draug, fuck, I've even been to Hell and back. I travelled through hollow Earth, teleporting over great distances (beats the tube by far - but it's not the Star Trek teleport. No, this thing is from a time we can't even begin to remember or cope with). I've travelled through time in what you'd call time tombs and visited places forgotten by time, places of myth. I was knocked around by forgotten mallevolent gods. This does bring up the question, does God, the capital G one, exist? And in what form? Is there a Heaven? Have I been going through this wrong? I'm still sure that all this can be explained by science and I guess it doesn't really matter if there's an almighty god or not. I'm immortal now. Oh yes. I died hundreds of times. "Died". Such an inexact word to describe what I'm going through everytime I suffer from sustained injuries. It still hurts like hell. The pain is agonising, but I don't die. My spirit, my "anima" Or at least I'm immortal until Gaia decides against that. Yes, "mother Earth" is real. And, I'm fucking Hermione. Well not really, but I do have powers that are best described, lacking other, better words, as magic. I can bend reality, through the use of life force and create what's not there. What shouldn't be possible. Magic bullets and missiles, lightning bolts (sometimes I even say it out loud while casting it) and fire balls. Mostly, I use that for destruction. With great power comes great responsibility my ass. I wish Michael Bolton would turn out to be an energetic vampire, or a bog ghoul in disguise, so I could run a stake through his heart, or blow him up. Uh, power trip... and I'm just straying now.

What I've told you is only the tip of the iceberg. There's so much more. I'm sure you can agree that even the sanest of people would be driven to the edge of insanity. I'm fine though. I do sometimes cry (on the inside, my tear ducts have been dried a long time ago) when I'm alone in the shower. I don't know what to make of my mental health right now. I'm somewhere between excited, pumped up and dispair and self-doubt. Me, the condescending little bitch that everybody loves.

I am of course subjected to temporary psychological checks, by my current, real, employer. The Templars. The old knightly order, but modern and up to date. Of course their specialists couldn't find anything wrong with me. Well, except for the stress that's normal in my new line of work. I know how to hide my weaknesses, but I can admit to you that I'm not in the best of my mental states. Not insane by any streches of the word, but, as I said, I sometimes feel overwhelmed by everything that's happening to me.

The Templars. They suit me. With their order, their rules and their fancy dress parties. I'm part of a Cabal within the Templars. 9 Swords they call themselves. They should be the cream of the crop. And I believe they are. And I don't belong anywhere else than with the best. My hive.

I always thought I was special, that I was better, smarter, more charming than anyone else. That the weight of the world, at least a part of it resides on my shoulders. That some people are just toys to be carefully, subtly manipulated, so I can achieve my goals.Turns out that being the head of human resources at a fairly large company doesn't really make you special. That having a failed relationship with a way too sensible artist man-baby is not the worst thing you can experience in life.

You could be saying: "Hey, Sofie, but you are special! You're fighting off ghouls and vampires and horrors. Protecting the people of the Earth from nightmares and malevolent deities."

Yeah, and I'd say you're right. But do you know what really bothers me? That I'm not the only one. There are thousands of little fuckers just like me, running around the globe. I'm not THE one. I am one of many sweet buzzing protectors of Gaia.

But I shouldn't really be that disheartened about this. Being the only one does have it's drawbacks. At least that's what I learned from watching Duncan MacLeod when I was a brat. And, maybe, it's a good thing that all the world, all of Gaia is not just my responsibility. I think that my recent experiences did show me that sometimes you have to rely on other people in order to get things done and not go completely bonkers.

I might seem a bit schizophrenic, contradicting myself at times. I'm sorry, but my mind is all over the place. But I'm OK. Or I am sure that I'll be OK. I'm coping with this a lot better than an year ago. Don't worry about me. I'll be fine. I always land on my feet. And I always find a way to stay sane. Or at least my deffinition of sane.

Also, probably you're wondering why I've used so many "sweet", antophila descriptive words. That's not my style ussually. I guess you could think, rightfully so, that I took an interest in apiculture. Seems like some artistic sensibility rubbed off on me, from spending so much time with Sebastian. It will sound crazy, but it all started when I swallowed a bee. Yeah, a frelling bee. Out of all things, the bees are "magic". I vaguely knew myth about the bees, but come on! Bees? I used to kill them when I was child - child's play. And now they save me and guide me, ironic how things turn out.

Ah, who am I kidding? Who am going to send this to? Who would belive me? That wacko David, from New York had it right. No one wants to be associated with a nut. A conspiracy nut at that. And to be honest, would I really want to confess to anyone? Things like thesr are better kept secret. The Secret World should only be reveled to those who serve a purpose in it. Who can I think of from my former life that would serve a purpose in the Secret World? No one. Well, maybe Sebastian. But he's to frail to even begin to cope with this. He'd be excited at first, but then paranoia would just get the better of him. I'll keep it to myself, why won't I?

Speaking to yourself again, Sofie? Yeah, but I'm such a good listener.

And here we go again, a new text message from Dick. Off to saving the world again. I like Dick, he's a man of fine tastes.

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