I know we didn't part on good terms. And you know I'm bad with words. When I look at the sky, I recall how you taught me to glide. Remember how I was so scared to jump, to drop down the ledge of the harbor? You were there. You held my hand. Guided my strike when I hammered my first iron, sparks flying. You never wavered. ...I didn't mean to raze your forge and burn it all... I was angry. Livid. I have a mother's temperament, as you always say. I'm sending new Smithing Tools. They're good! Really good. I tried them... Right. I'm stalling. We both know I'm not good at goodbyes. A true Anders at heart, like mother. — Rochelle

The letter written by Rochelle Anders was handed to her father, Oswald Anders. The Blacksmith will cherish the gift.