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Letters from the Sky: Introduction
Solitude can be crushing. Silence can become so loud, it's all that can be heard. Many people associated solitude and silence to be something akin to peace, and while that was a logical standpoint, John could not stand it. The world had been saved, and transformed into something of a Lorien successor, but at the same time, so many things were lost. There were so many things John failed to protect, and as punishment, he had to endure the silence upon his shoulders, holding it up with gritted teeth. Many saw him as a hero, someone to look up to. John only saw failure when he looked at his reflection, and it never stung any less. John thought that maybe staying in the cave Eight once found so comforting would cushion the blows, the reminders of all he had lost, but it seemed only to amplify them, bouncing off the cave walls, never slowing. He had to leave.
Finding a place to live was more difficult than he had anticipated, though it was not surprising. He had been the face of the Garde, the face people pictured the most when thinking back to the invasion of the Mogadorians, the one who saved them all. All of that notoriety made it hard to find a place where John could suffer in peace, and maybe even a little comfort. Finding a secluded cabin in the woods suited him just fine.
It had been two years since the defeat of the Mogs, and life had adapted quickly. John knew that there were many human Garde who needed guidance, but he wasn't the one to give it to them. He received invitations from Nine on a monthly basis to come and assume a role of a Cepan, but the mere thought made John's chest feel hollow and heavy at the same time, the memory of his own Cepan much too fresh. John knew that he would never be capable of filling the shoes of a Cepan, the bravest of the Loric. It just wasn't something John could offer, obviously. Everyone thought too highly of him, and he disliked being regarded as a hero; he was anything but.
Worst of all were the dreams. Slumber was not the escape many saw for themselves. John could not avoid his failures no matter if he was conscious or not. His dreams had always been jarring, and once upon a time, he thought there was nothing worse than having to relive the last moments of Lorien every night, He was wrong. While he had an occasional Loric nightmare, the events that occurred on Earth were what plagued him. People dying around him, people who fought alongside him, for him, his friends, the people he loved most, dying. Henri and Sarah, the two closest people to him, dying a horrific death because of him. It was all his fault, and no matter how many times the nightmares repeated themselves, they never hurt less. Their intensity was the only constant in his life now, ever present and always agonizing.
Thinking of Henri was a special kind of pain that never lessened, even as the years passed. It was hard to understand that time would continue regardless of Henri being gone, it didn't seem right. The hole left behind could never be filled, and John knew he would carry this emptiness with him for the rest of his life, and he still wasn't sure if he could cope with that fact. The last memories John had of Henri would haunt him forever. The hurt on his face when he realized John had lied, and the childish remark John followed it with, one that he could never forgive himself for. The last seconds of his life, his last words soothing John, absolving him of his mistakes. "It's not your fault… Be strong,"
I can't, Henri. I'm not strong enough for this.
Thinking of Sarah hurt more than any other type of pain he had felt, and he had quite a bit of experience to compare. The image of her peaceful face, cancelled out once the blanket was pulled back to reveal the gaping wound that took her from him. The guilt was insurmountable, and her last words etched themselves into his brain, the sound of her last breaths, and how they were for him. The anger that gripped him when he thought of how it could have been different, how he should have been there to stitch her skin back together. How he should have protected her from the components that made up his life.
He was cursed. Becoming close to John was an automatic death sentence.