Mial gets a lot of mail. It starts out as a lot of mail and builds up to huge drifts of mail, as word spreads; if he doesn't stay on top of it, it may spill out the windows and start appearing in the soup while dinner is fixed and embed itself in the carpet under the sheer pressure of all the other mail.
People want their relatives back. It is mostly dragons who want this, but not exclusively. A number of vampires wish to know if the pontiff has been informed of all this or do they have to write him themselves. (Apparently they're concerned about the possibility of the pontiff being buried in mail but obviously have no such regard for Mial.) Dragons want to know how the possibility of future shrens has been addressed.
Some pixies in Gibryel have written to him about their political problems, unclear on the nature of the miracles available. Someone wants him to "fix Ryganaav". Finnah's egg father has written a rather sentimental letter imploring Mial to intercede with Finnah on the grounds that "it seems this would really take a miracle".
Someone wants him to eradicate south flu. Someone wants him to eradicate their son-in-law. Someone wants him to eradicate dust bunnies. Someone wants him to eradicate Sand Dusk Chanters. Someone wants him to eradicate an obscure parasitic illness of the tropics, and in case he isn't willing to do that, there are several pages of lurid explanation of the parasite's mechanism and anecdotes about people who didn't make it to adequately trained lights immediately. Someone wants him to eradicate nutritional yeast.
A lot of people want miracle teleportation powers. A number of people are concerned that conventional warding might not hold against miracle teleportation powers and want to know what he's going to do about that isn't he an Esmaarlan.
A substantial fraction of the world's dragon population seems to think that their variously heartfelt, scolding, or bewildered correspondence will be what convinces That Which Means To Eternally Plague Us With Shrenhood to do so less Eternally, perhaps this coming Saanen or something, he could have a little party, everyone could celebrate the final disappearance of that nasty family-destroying agonizing disease? Who would want to be a disease? The stunt has certainly gained attention but surely he has enough attention now?
He has a lot of attention now. Letters in assorted envelope colors with little flags on them pop into existence over the coffee table, hit the pile, and slide to the floor.
"Yeah. I'm going to consult Lazarus and that garnet guy about it. When I'm done sorting my mail." He eyes the remaining pile and grabs another letter.
This one, he discoveres, is actually literally addressed to shren alyemi. He snorts and holds it up for Finnah to see.
And then there are no more letters in the pile. "Have I missed any?" he wonders, looking around.
Finnah fishes one out from between the sofa cushions. It is from someone who thinks the planet would be prettier if it were pentagonal and had plants on the sides and bottom. She also spots one under a chair. This one complains about how inelegant it is that the square root of two is irrational, will he please fix that, one point four would be nice.
"There, done. I think in future I will send all my mail to my room and then sort it via miracle. Now to start actually answering them..."
He fishes out that one letter about Sand Dusk Chanters and takes it to his mom's office.
"Some Thanetan thinks that the solution to the problem of New Disciples of the Generous Lord still existing in Iraam is for all of them to stop existing, and I'm wondering whether and how much it would undermine my dignity as a miracle worker to mock him. And how best to mock him, that too."
"You're going to have a very dull career as a miracle worker if you don't let yourself have any fun."
Thank you so much for bringing Iraam's persecution of the New Disciples of the Generous Lord to my son's attention. I'm sure he will consider the problem carefully and arrive at a fair solution. I'm also sure his solution will not be to eradicate all members of my faith.
"I feel like this strikes a nice balance," she says, showing it to Mial.
He traipses back down to start composing form letters for some of the other complaints.
Dear Name of Correspondent: Thank you for your suggestion about Name of Disease. Many people have written me to suggest I eliminate this and other conditions. Here is a list of all the health issues I plan to deal with. They will cross themselves out as they are handled. [miraculously up-to-date list]
Dear Name of Correspondent: Yes, at least one person I know of has contacted the pontiff about me. The miracle workers have discovered that it would be trivially easy to give all vampires infinite lifespans not dependent on their diet, and the vampire we consulted said he would write to the pontiff about it. You and the [miraculously up-to-date number] other people who have asked me about this can rest assured the pontiff has been informed.
Dear Name of Correspondent: Your name and request have been added to the list of people who have written me to ask for magical powers. If and when the miracle workers decide to start systematically fulfilling these requests, you and the [miraculously up-to-date number] other people on the list will be contacted.
Those ones are easier. When he gets around to writing a less rude form response to the letters to shren alyemi, he finds himself reopening the letters in that box and reading the ones he managed to avoid doing more than skim the first time around.
This one contains psychological speculation that being an infected shren may have damaged Mial's understanding of reality because it must have been very traumatic. That one is writing because she heard from her cousin that there was a last shren, and not only a last shren but a mean shren who was continuing to be a shren at everyone, and she doesn't think that can possibly be right because she met a shren once who was very polite and self-effacing, and does he want to put a stop to this cruel rumor? This one wonders if he's been referred to a good psychologist; the writer's great great great grand nephew has a practice in Daasen. That one read in an old article that Mial's growth was stunted by potions and wonders if it affected his brain and suggests earnestly that the miracle magic seems pretty flexible and maybe it could fix that too.
Okay then.
He writes this one in Reform Draconic.
Dear Name of Correspondent: You and many other people have written to ask me about being the last shren and whether I might like to stop. I would not like to stop. I am not doing this out of spite or for attention or because of coercion or derangement. I am not being slandered by rumour and I do not need psychological help. I am a shren, and I will remain a shren, by my own free choice. I am a shren and I will remain a shren because I would rather be a shren than a siad. Perhaps you believe no one could possibly want such a thing; perhaps you believe shrens are inferior, awful, degenerate, frightening. I disagree with that opinion. And I will continue disagreeing. And I will continue being a shren.
Ialsafei siahrraki,
Mialavar, the Last Shren
That seems polite enough for his purposes.