Chapter IV

And then, the letter came.

It was an ordinary looking letter. No special effects or ink or fancy envelope.

Nothing.

Plain white paper and plain blue ink. And the plain words that rang like bells, leaving nothing, not a single corner, in silence.

Yes, it is over. Final or not, I do not know…- it is hard to tell whether I am relieved it is "goodbye' or not… but there is no question about the finality of the moment. It is there; a visible, tangible, audible presence…almost a caress.

The farewell… but first- a thank you.

You have given me much, awoken much within me, and, in a way, shaped who I am. I know that there is no going back, no "reliving" it differently… like loosing an innocence, a certain view of the world, - it has happened, and there is no changing back. But I am glad that I can never be as I was before. I have grown; grown older and more wary of the world…and maybe less trusting, and maybe just a bit more cruel… but also more imaginative, more aware of cause and effect, more careful of my own wishes and words … I have grown. I have learned lessons of love, of fear and hope, of falling and flying, of fire and ice:

I have grown.

Thanks to you, thanks to you.

And through the discomfort and fear, through the unbearable sadness and insufferable invasion of mind and consciousness, you have nonetheless taught me something so valuable that I am almost tempted to say that it was worth the suffering and darkness of the Underground. That lesson. The one that proves to be so connected so intertwined with the very fibers of my very being…and I know, too, that it was a gift. I did not accept your offer, your terms, your bargain, - ever. But, never the less, with some solitary spark of unforeseen kindness, you gifted me with an experience that has shaped who I am.

I thank you for that.

I cannot but despise you for attempting to invade, devour and manipulate the one within me who opened my mind to you, making it oh so easy, so tantalizingly easy to seize, to prey upon my pity, to twist it into a strange form of attraction… but for the lesson…for that lesson, I thank you.

And now the connection between us must be ruptured, cut torn, shattered. And, inevitably, pain will follow, - searing pain of loss of second self, of beauty, of a strange dark wilderness… of a lonely world, of a lonely heart… but this must happen, for I have grown.

In a sense, you have wrought this end for yourself – you knew, even before I ever stopped to think, that this would be the end. All ends of your existence will be like this…and this, like your unchangeable nature, will continue forever, only forever…

Be that as it may, we must bear it; we must part. I have grown. Now the never-ending Labyrinth, with turns and twists and oubliettes, the Labyrinth that seemed impossible, unfair, and unsolvable, is now much too confining for me. There's not enough air, not enough space for me to survive. I must move on, must leave this world. Your world. The one I have grown so used to, the one that has grown so used to me… the one that has adapted to my needs, my lessons, my voices and dreams. But now, now that I nave learned those lessons, lived those dreams, catching glimpses of new ones, solved the riddles and understood…now it is much, much too small. Time has come to leave… only forever.

Farewell… Farewell.

I would not wish you back again. It is over. It has passed – like rain on the mountains, like fog in the rays of the morning's light… and so, too shall the pain pass…like a cloud… like a haunting melody of a familiar song…it will echo and re-echo, eerily playing peek-a-boo with my consciousness, somewhere on the edge of dreaming and waking, but will never sound again… and that is as it should be…farewell…

…There's such a fooled heart, beating so fast,

In search of new dreams, a love that will last…

You knew. Does it make the pain any less? Does it? Then why do I cry out at hearing the pain in your voice, the doomed sensation of never again? …A fooled heart… yours or mine?

…A love that will last…

Yes.

Unknowingly, you were right, - more right than you think, than you know… I must indeed go on, must find my own wings, find them and spread them across the evening sky, - from horizon to horizon… I no longer fit under the shadow of yours.

I will walk a different Labyrinth… Aboveground, yes…high aboveground… high above the world, I will walk on the edge of a sharp, quivering blade…for a while alone… but not for long, not forever. Darker and deeper than any of your whimsical oubliettes will be the chasms and abysses beneath my feet, and harder, much harder it will be to balance and keep myself from falling…but, I have grown. Grown stronger.

I will pass that way, will find my way in the unfathomable maze of razor-sharp mountain peaks and illusive starlight, of clouds and snow and vibrating thoughts… in search of new love… in search of true love… in search of… and finding it.

Stray but a little… and you will fail…

But I will not stray.

I thank you.

I have learned the lesson.

I have lived through darkness.

I have understood.

I refuse to be manipulated.

I am free.

I will find my dream.

I thank you.

Farewell.

No address and no signature… but there was no doubt as to who had sent it.

No, it wasn't Sarah. He could not believe it to be her. It wasn't, couldn't be, not his Sarah. That child that had worshipped him, that victim of fantasy that could not even control her emotions, how could she have changed this much?

No…

It was the essence of woman, the understanding of a mother, the love of a child, and the gratitude of a lover. Everything that was a heart sounded in that letter; that emotion, without beginning or end, that was simply a part of the endless spiral of love.

And yet…

And yet it was she.

All forgiving, all encompassing… and somehow grateful for his evil intentions.

It was that gratitude that started the pain, that compelled him to read and re-read, until he knew each word, each sound, until he didn't have to hold the letter to see it and here it all around him. He did not want to. This was defeat. Utter defeat, as his purpose in life suddenly keeled over dead.

Tears could not rebuild that bridge, the last bridge he had, the last one she burned – the others having fallen out from under his feet just as he was took the final step.

But, then, what was he crying for? This would pass; there would be more victims, easier ones. His power would return; he would still be great, - his reason whispered to him.

All that remained was to shut a part of himself off from the rest, off from the world, so that it could not ever again interfere, - it said.

Oh, and the letter would have to be ripped of course – he couldn't have it as an endless reminder, could he? No, it must go, must be forgotten, put away as soon as possible, cast into the oblivion of the unconsciousness.

The Goblin King struggled with himself, the 2 aspects of his fae nature declared total war, all resources having already been thrown into use a long time ago. And, yes, everything was indeed at stake.

This was not Sarah's Goblin Battle.

His love for her, strengthened by the awe at her powerful courage and strength of her heart wrestled with his habitual fae nature.

Habit - millions of ages of luring, seducing, ruling and plotting.

And it was in the hands of habit that the burning letter, that last bridge, ended up.

He ripped it in two, with one fluid motion. And fell onto his knees, unable stand the fire that had taken his whole being.