Destined

The Last Word

Dear Chelsea,

Congratulations! I’m so excited for you and Jason. I can’t believe you’re already a mother; it feels like the wedding was just last week. And even though you hated them, I hope little Sophie gets your curls. I always thought they were beautiful. I’ve included a little gift for her. But it probably bears explaining.

Once upon a time, a faerie stole my heart.

What I didn’t know at the time was that she hadn’t stolen it from me. You’d had it on credit for years. But before you could make the final payment, she carried it off. And something I never did understand was how easily you forgave her for that.

But of course, there were a lot of things I didn’t understand about you back then. I treasure the time we spent together at Harvard — you were amazing, every single day, pulling my thoughts away from that faraway island and reminding me to just breathe. I needed that reminder. I still need it. I don’t think you have any idea — especially on those hard nights, when I was afraid to go to sleep, afraid to face the nightmares, and you would just lie there with me, talking into the wee hours of the morning — how often you literally saved my life.

When you moved on — perhaps it’s more accurate to say, when I drove you away — I didn’t know how I was going to keep myself together. I tried to stay busy, buried myself in schoolwork… med school has been good for that! But I came to understand why you left, and eventually I had to face the things that were holding me back. I know how you worried about my attachment to Laurel, but in the end, it wasn’t Laurel I couldn’t get over.

It was Avalon.

When I woke screaming in the night, you never asked me why. I loved you for that. Of course, you could probably guess that trolls figured heavily in those dreams. But nightmares spent reliving that day in Avalon weren’t the worst of what I suffered. Sometimes I dreamed that I brought that cursed sword home, and with it came to rule the world. Sometimes I dreamed that I conquered Avalon, too, and with the secrets of the faeries, eradicated sickness, hunger, and disease. In those dreams, I’m every bit the tyrant Klea aspired to be, and what’s worse, almost everyone loves me for it.

Those are the dreams that are the worst upon waking. When I’m on my rotations and someone brings in a child who’s sick or injured and I can see at a glance that their chances are slim, it’s all I can do not to airlift them to Orick, knock on Laurel’s door, and beg her to give me her little blue bottle of miracles. But I know that’s not how it works. Can you imagine the wars that would be waged for control of Avalon, if its secrets were widely known?

I’m resisting the urge to start this letter over for the hundredth time. I don’t mean to be bleak. I’m sorry. But Chelsea — the things we know! Faeries, trolls, magic! Things most people dismiss as childhood fancies. But we know the truth — we know they’re real. That the world we see is just a shadow of what actually exists. I don’t know how you keep from shouting it from the rooftops sometimes. But we both know where that would land us, and stark white has never been your colour, or mine.

Anyway, I’ve met someone and I’m excited to introduce her to the gang back in Crescent City. I think you’ll like her. We’ve actually been together, off and on, for more than a year, and I’ve decided to propose. Frankly, I think she’s shown a lot of patience waiting this long for me to come around.

But after being with you I decided that, if love ever came back into my life, I needed to do it right. I had to find a way to let Avalon go — to stop dwelling on the past and let myself turn my face to the future. And there was one obvious answer. An answer I never, ever thought I would consider. And I suspect that even as you read these words, you know what I’m talking about. That’s partly why I’m writing instead of using the phone. I’m not sure I could stand up to one of your famous lectures. By the time you get this, the deed will be done, and I hope you’ll forgive me.

I went to see Laurel and Tam. Forgive her, too, for agreeing to keep this secret from you. If it helps, it took a lot of convincing.

Laurel has spent months perfecting a memory elixir that will strip Avalon from my mind. It’s going to put a lot of gaps in my memories of high school… she doesn’t think it will significantly change my memory of you, but she doubts I’ll remember her very much, or Tamani at all. She thinks she can leave enough of herself that when Mom talks about her — as she sometimes does — I can nod and say, “Oh yeah, my high school girlfriend.” But it won’t be her.

It was hard to say goodbye to them. It’s been years since I got over her in a romantic way — when you and I were together. You had my whole heart. But what we shared, the four of us, it can’t help but bind you. And as much as I never thought I would say this, Tam has been a really good friend to me these last few years. In the end, it was he who convinced Laurel to make the elixir. He who convinced her that it was my right to choose.

I’m in awe of your strength, Chelsea, and hope you’ll forgive my weakness. But before I take that final step: Sophie’s gift. (Though maybe you will enjoy it just as much!) Erasing a memory seems so final, and I don’t want everything to be lost. It’s a damn good story, isn’t it? So I’ve been writing it down and going to Laurel for her memories and the details I was never privy to. You’ll see that she didn’t hold back. She told me everything and I’ve tried to relay it here as faithfully as possible. It’s way too long to make a proper book, but if a certain little girl grows up to be anything like her mother, she won’t mind. She’ll love it because it has faeries.

So I’ve enclosed the only copy of our story in the world. I’ve already erased it from my hard drive. I’m giving it to you to do with as you wish. Keep it, share it, hell, publish it, for all I care. But please accept it in the spirit it is given, and don’t try to make me remember all this. I can’t bear it any longer; please, please don’t try to force me to. I can’t get married carrying round the kinds of secrets I would have to keep from my wife. And I want to give Rose the kind of future — the kind of husband — I know she deserves. The kind of man I know I can be. The kind of man I used to be. The man you used to love.

It’s hard to believe we’ve been friends for almost fifteen years. We’re getting old! But, God willing, we’ll get another fifty.

Love,

David

P.S. Introduce me to Tam someday, if you get a chance. I miss him already.