Al has just saved Molly from the Contamination Chamber. Kass finds Molly, lying on the floor staring at the empty chamber.
“Why?” says Molly. “Why’d he do it?”
Tapping her sandals on the floor next to Molly’s head, Kass lets out a sound, something between a hiss and a sigh. Molly looks up, and Kass offers her something.
“What’s this?”
“A letter.”
“I can see that.”
“Al wrote it to you ages ago, he just never sent it.”
“How do you know?”
“He carried it around on his trolley. I saw it one time and asked him about it.”
“Have you read it?”
“Of course.”
“Kassandra!”
“It’ll help.”
“But…”
“Look at it this way, I finally get to be a messenger.”
Dear Molly
I don’t think I’ll every have the nerve to give this to you, but I’ve been thinking about it for so long and Kass gave me an idea. (I know, I can’t believe I’m doing something Kass suggested but here it is.)
She pointed out that Messengers, are writers at light. I know I’m not the best messenger and so will probably be a terrible scribe. But I have to say these things somewhere and maybe if I write them down then I can let them go.
Thirty-thousand years ago, I was slower than everyone else. I was the last to step down onto the emerald Form of Grass, the last to wander through the Edge of the Light and the last to understand the name of things.
My light was dim, that’s how I was made.
Wandering along the edge of the Always Orchard, I was feeling lonely when I saw you race across Grass. You soared, and twirled, and stepped and spun, you were the most beautiful thing I’d seen in all the time we’d been witnesses.
You shone, and my own dim light caught fire.
But then Lucie arrived, and your brightness, your warm glow was smoothed. I know Lucie was the first and perfect, but her light was cold, and only made my light feel weak by comparison. How could I possibly compare to her grace, and perfection?
I’m sorry I wasn’t brave enough to tell you this at the time, or to stay and help you talk to Lucie. She told me to go away, and I went – but not really. Fading into the trees, I listened. I heard what she said. I heard the truth.
I know you were the First.
You’re the best of us, not because you demand we follow you and your way but because you encourage us to be the best versions of ourselves, to choose our own path. Now you need to follow your own example.
Everyone knows you’re the most efficient postal worker, but that’s not all you can be. Ever since your argument with Lucie you’ve doubted yourself.
Don’t doubt yourself, you were made to shine brighter even than the Morning Star; one day you will.
I believe in you.
Your friend Alexander