You have my sincere apologies.  That statement is one as alien to me as the events that inspired it.

It was I who instructed Mr. Ben Stokes to seal you within your coffin with a silver cross and then chain you shut.  If you are seized by fury, then I shall be its target.  Please do not think of this as an act of malice.  If you will, my son, see it only as my cowardice.  You are my sweetest boy, my only son, and the source of my greatest pride.  I wish only that these words could have been spoken to you rather than written, but that is now beyond my power.  I cannot condemn you to die.  I posit that the future will have found a solution to your condition, and that you will one day walk anew in the light of the sun.  It is my responsibility to carry you there.  Look to the future, my boy.  As we often discussed with Jeremiah on our various journeys, this is an age of the miraculous.  Miss Winters is proof that.

It is true that I am a dour, humorless, distant man.  In tandem with this, I am a man of curious optimism.

One day, you shall be found.  I know not the circumstances, but I do know that your condition, as loathsome as it is, is also an instrument of great power.  In your time, you suffered, my boy.  Simultaneously, you ended suffering.  You did what others could not do.  I fear that curses the likes of which afflict you will continue to plague us.  There will be enemies in the future just as men such as Judah Zachary were the enemies of our past.  If this is the case, then future generations will need your experience and wisdom and abilities if they are to survive.

I have released Ben Stokes per your request.  In doing so, I was struck by your wisdom.

What is a Collins?

It is not a name, I have come to realize.  It is a spirit.  It lives in the men who soldier on through impossible battles when men of logic storm away.  It lives in the men who dare to show passion when others simply shrug with indifference.  It lives when men see that the potential for goodness can always eclipse the traditions of evil.

By those measures, I am not a Collins, my dearest son.  But you have the capacity to be the greatest of them all.  Find the rest.  Nurture them.  Protect them.  Guide them.

In doing so, your curse will be lifted.

In doing so, Angelique will have lost.

In doing so, Collinwood will never fall.

Proudly and with love,

Joshua I. Collins



One Comment on “460”

  1. mrsgreenhands June 3, 2013 at 1:01 am #

    Reblogged this on Mrsgreenhands’s Weblog.

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