This letter was found folded within the pages of
"The Book of Revelations" in
the Holy Bible of Sr. Ingrid Rayne

***

Luna Foundation
Angel Island, California

To: Sr. Ingrid Rayne
c/o Convent of the Blessed Sacrament
Sonoma, CA

My sweet Inger,

You are my other, better self - the other half of my own soul. I love you dearly. I always have and ever shall. We've both always known that this day would come, that I would precede you. Do not mourn. As I write this I feel that the time is very close. I am ready and have been for a long time, and yet, to you alone can I admit, I am terrified. It is amazing that no matter how prepared and how desirous of the end we might be, there is still a fear of the unknown and a clinging to this familiar world. We cling to it like some old beloved quilt or a tattered paperback that we secretly keep close at hand to scare away the night terrors.

I've had much more time than I ever expected, you know that. I chose my path long ago with my eyes wide open, as you chose yours. God may have given us common "gifts" and common destinies, but He allowed us the freedom to meet our fates differently. In that, He permits us to create our own destiny. I have regrets and sadnesses, as everyone does, but honour allowed few choices. You understand what I mean.

I am sorry that we spent so many years apart. I was foolish and immature. I could not accept your decision to enter the convent came from your own heart. I thought you were running away to hide behind those walls, and in so doing, denying your "gifts," rather than using them to help in the unending battle. I thought you were rejecting me. I didn't understand that your way of fighting was the way of Gandhi and Martin Luther King, while mine was the way of a Patton or an Alexander. You are the light and love, while I am the darkness and bloody rage. We are the yin and the yang of a single soul. I now see that, and have for a long time, though I've not said so. I am sorry for that, and for those years of hurt. Please forgive me, dearest sister.

I have left a letter for Kat, Rachel's daughter, telling her to visit you if she has difficulties because of her "gift". She is more like us, and like her gt-grandfather, Joshua Cantwell, than she is like Alex or her mother. As young as she is, she has already wielded her powers with great dexterity and control. Her ability is mind centered, not heart centered. The Darkside will want her, and has already made more than one try.

Whatever may have happened to me, do not allow it to shake your faith. Ironic, isn't it? Me, telling you about faith? My greatest fear is that I shall be tested and be found wanting, that I shall be unable to meet my final challenge with dignity, strength, and perseverence, that I shall falter and fall to the Darkness. I should not have such a fear if I had your faith, but, alas, my mind often overpowers my heart. It's a double-edged sword. Always I fight to slam shut that door of intellectual confusion and doubt. It is a weakness that I cannot permit, and yet it's like a swarm of gnats, which pester me unendingly. However, without that domination of the mind, I could never have controlled my emotions, affections, and fears enough to carry on. Dear Lord, I've missed so much of ordinary human life. Sometimes, in weak times, I wonder why, what for, but then I remember victims like Liz Sumner and Bobby Warner, or comrades such as Nick and Kristin, William and Jane Witherspoon, and I know why. Then there are no more doubts, no more questions.

Your letter has been the easiest to write. Philip's was difficult. He won't like what I had to say, but I hope that by reading it he finds his way, either the true and absolute faith that you have, or that his way is like my own. He troubles me greatly. You have never failed to help someone in need. To you faith and compassion are one, but I fear Philip truly does use his faith as a shield to cower behind, rather than as a weapon to protect himself and others in battle against the Darkness. I fear for him when he makes this realisation and discovers that "his faith" has cost lives. I've put all this quite badly. I simply cannot find the words that define the difference between your own faith and my friend's. Your faith is a bastion built on solid rock. His may be a palisade built on a precipice that will crumble beneath him when he faces the truth.

I still have not been able to write my letters to Alex and Nick. So much will be riding on those pages - their futures in the Legacy, their futures as human beings. How shall I ever find the right words? Those two are my legacy far more than Luna, the museum, the House, or the Legacy itself.

Say a prayer or two for me, liefje, but don't overdo. Don't burn the church down with candles. God may get tired of hearing about it and boot me into that other place just to be rid of us.

At last, dear sister, this old warhorse (You know the one I mean in Job 39.) "that smelleth the battle afar off" and "neither turneth back from the sword," has discovered that faith does not need the whole truth. All faith needs is love. I think, perhaps, they are one and the same, and that is the whole truth.

With love, always and forever, your brother,

< < + > >

*** Note written on at the bottom of this letter ***

My dear brother - now and forever. Why did I not sense your trouble? Though I'll swear I heard the explosion, why did I not sense what had happened? Why this emptiness? I feel like half my soul has been blown away. I am happy for your joy in seeing the face of our Lord, but I am so lonely without the sense of your presence in this world. I never realised how much a part of me you were. I wish that God, and you yourself, could have given you an easier life. Was all the torment truly necessary?

Mother Superior has warned me the Church may oppose the chapel Nicholas wants to build over the ruins. She says it will not hallow the site of a suicide. I pray she is wrong. How could I remain in a Church that would be a party to such a lie, that desecrates such a martyrdom? My faith in God, our Savior, and in you, my dearest Derek, is unshaken, but I am unsure about our Holy Mother Church. Please, Holy Mary, guide me.

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