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To a canary, freed
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It has taken me some time to find my voice in this letter. I have tried my hand at my usual poetics, and yet, such things have all fallen short of my true intent. Alas, I can think of few poems which express the full experience of reading one’s own post-mortem eulogy. Perhaps then I shall speak relatively maskless. If my words therefore lack their standard eloquence, I hope that you won’t take offense.
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I am not one to apologize. In truth, there is very little in my life that – given the same circumstances and knowledge – I would not repeat even now. I will not apologize for returning you to Lindblum as it allowed me to pass along the secrets which I wished to share at just that moment, and I assume that it must have worked as Zidane’s crew journeyed where I wished them to shortly afterwards. I will not apologize, but I will admit that I operated under a misconception.
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I had a secondary motive for your safe return. I thought that I was doing you a kindness. Apparently, in this, I was mistaken.
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I remember the day that we met. It was pure chance that I happened upon your husband’s airship while you were in the process of stealing it away. Such novel technology – exactly what I needed – and almost perfectly unguarded too. It was as though fate itself had aligned in my path, and I would have been a fool not to seize it for myself. I wonder how the scene must have read from your perspective. Your ship, boarded while you were most vulnerable. The crew, slaughtered one by one and replaced by my mages. It must have seemed something out of a horror novel. Yet, when finally you came across my path, you were the image of sophistication and grace. You would not bow before me. You did not allow yourself to so much as tremble. Your eyes blazed with defiance even in the face of certain death.
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I could not bring myself to extinguish that flame.
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Your political ties gave me justification to spare you. Who was I to throw away potential leverage over the kingdom of Lindblum should my plans go awry? Certainly you would be of more use to me alive than dead, I thought, though that was not my only thought. You should know well by now that I care little for the lives of Gaians. I find your kind most predictable, and yet, you alone found a way to surprise me.
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Your courage struck me first. It was neither reckless self-sabotage nor a kind of aimless rebellion. It was, rather, the courage to maintain one’s dignity in the face of subjugation. Upon navigation of our admittedly tense conversations, I found a sharp intelligence, an appreciation for the arts, and an ingenuity with the magical arts. The first time that you tried to transform me into an insect, I’ll admit that I was impressed. I had never seen such proficiency in transmodification before, and I longed to ask you for your methods. At the time, however, I had an image to uphold and so I refrained.
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Perhaps you could instruct me should we stay in correspondence? I would offer a few tricks of my own trade in return, of course.
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In truth, I was distinctly aware that you had become a liability. You had seen too much. You had discovered secrets that no Gaian was permitted to know. I knew that I should dispose of you, yet still I could not bring myself to the task. Had your light begun to fade under pressure, I think it would have been a simple matter, but despite it all, yours shined only brighter. Doubtless, you were aware of the precarity of your circumstances. At the time, I’d thought that your resolution must have been an active strategy for your survival. Now, I wonder if it was not a deeper characteristic of your soul.
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I had taken it as a given that I was the greatest villain of your story, and that mine was your most restrictive cage. No matter how you still sang, I thought your voice nothing but resilience in the face of adversity.
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Your planet was doomed. Your people had little time left. I knew all of this, and yet, I thought to spare you so that you could spend whatever time still remained living among them. You would not die by my hand – not directly, at least.
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Truthfully, I’d assumed that had you found your station so stifling that you would simply do away with it again. Perhaps I’d sensed a kind of kindred spirit – both of us brought to life for the purposes of a system which sought to strip us of our will, both of us defiant in the cultivation of a magical power strengthened for our hearts alone. Your flame was not meant for the suffocating chains of marriage and servitude.
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If you would hear the advice of a villain, why not break those chains? Should this strange twist of fate end and you wake in your castle as though this were naught but a dream, why not leave that city – not in retribution for your husband’s slights but only for your own sake? There is a wide world beyond those gates, prime for the taking. Gaia is a planet of equal parts prosperity and ruin, ripe with lore and legends and power long lost. A woman as intelligent and resourceful as yourself should find it fascinating.
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And should this dream never come to an end, my advice remains much the same. You have power. Use it for your own means. Do not let others try to put you in your place. Remain resolute. Demand that which is yours by right. Monetize your ingenuity, do not allow yourself to be swept aside, and you will make a name for yourself greater than any useless and unfaithful husband could provide you.
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But these are only the words of the monster your kind so reviles. You need not heed them if they would not suit your needs.
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I hope that I haven’t given cause for offense.
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I realize that when you first penned your letter that you never intended that it should find its way to its intended recipient. In that way, it was likely far more intimate than you would have shared otherwise. As such, I’ve chosen to respond only to matters of circumstance rather than to your feelings of loss.
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To that, I will only say that I had not expected that anyone – let alone a Gaian to whom I had caused such grievance – would ever mourn me.
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It gave me great cause for thought. Had your time spent in captivity loosened your grip on reality? Or is some fundamental part of my perception flawed? I might never know the answer. Perhaps you may never know it either.
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Enclosed with this letter, I’ve included an emblem of my own design. When given to your messenger bird, it will set its course to a predetermined site outside the city of Torensten which I will check at irregular intervals. I have no expectation that you will reply. Was your letter not simply a catharsis, something to put to paper and then, when given the chance, to set free? However, should you wish to start a correspondence, I would have few objections. 
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With this emblem, I am gifting you a certain level of trust. While I have taken precautions, I am not unaware that this bird could lead one to my future location, thus placing me in a disadvantageous situation. It is my precaution that you do not use this token against me. While I have no interest in enacting violence towards those who opposed me on Gaia, I will act without mercy should I be forced to defend myself. As such, I think it best that certain parties never discover our correspondence – for their sake as well as my own.
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You claimed a desire to share the dawn of your future. They were words spoken for the dead, but I cannot help my interest regardless. Tell me of the beauty of your world and of your place within it. Tell me of your passions, your desires, and that which I never had a chance to see for myself. You claim that the world is rebuilding. I wonder what will become of it now.
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I shall await your answer.
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Sincerely,[break]
Your Lord Sorcerer

let's be Correspondents

Kuja