The Last Letter from Avalon

On the edge of the world, where the sea thundered against rough bluffs and the breeze murmured failed to remember stories, there stood a beacon that had not seen a boat in many years. The town beneath, known as Avalon, had for some time been deserted, its kin cleared away by time, war, and murmurs of the otherworldly. The beacon guardian, a single man named Elias, had been its just tenant as far back as anybody could recollect. His days were spent peacefully, saving the fire alive like trusting that somebody will return.

Elias was no more bizarre to disengagement. He had learned right off the bat in life that isolation could either break an individual or change them into something totally different. At 39, he had surrender to the way that his life was one of obligation, an endless watch over an unfilled world. In any case, that changed the night the letter showed up.

It came in a tempest, a dark sky with sheets of downpour that obscured the skyline. The breeze wailed, shaking the windows of the beacon, as though it conveyed with it a pressing message from a long way away. Elias had quite recently completed his night obligations — cleaning the metal lamp and getting the beacon's instruments — when the mailman showed up, drenched.

There was nobody in Avalon any longer, not since the conflict. The mailman had not an obvious explanation to come, yet he was right here, remaining at the entryway with a letter, his face pale and his hands shaking.

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"It's for you, Attendant Elias," the mailman said, his voice scarcely perceptible over the tempest. "I don't have the foggiest idea how it came. I just tracked down it in the letter drop. There was no location, yet your name is composed on the seal."

The envelope was old, worn and yellowed with age, however the ink on the seal was new and undeniable — an image that Elias perceived with a virus shudder. It was the sign of Avalon's unique originators, the ones who had disappeared suddenly.

Without another word, the mailman transformed and vanished into the tempest, leaving Elias remaining at the limit of the beacon, gazing at the letter in his grasp. His heart beat in his chest as he gradually stripped the seal away.

The letter inside was written in sensitive, streaming penmanship. It read:

Elias,

The opportunity has arrived. We realize you have been pausing, yet it isn't sufficient to observe only. You should act. The ocean calls, and with it, the mysteries you have long covered in your heart. We will be there soon. It is your predetermination to rise and face what has been concealed underneath the waves.

Try not to be apprehensive. The tempest will pass, and you will comprehend.

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—A.

The letter was marked exclusively with the letter A, an image that held such countless recollections for Elias. It was the underlying of a name he had not spoken in years, the name of somebody he assumed he had lost until the end of time. The heaviness of the letter in his grasp felt like a gateway to some other time, to a past he had covered profound inside himself.

Once more, the breeze yelled, as though to push him, and Elias understood what he needed to do. There was no option but to press onward now.

The tempest seethed as the night progressed, yet Elias couldn't rest. He remained at the window of the beacon, watching the waves run into the bluffs underneath. He could nearly hear the call from the ocean, an eerie song that appeared to entice him closer. Recollections started to mix — recollections of a lady, a commitment, and a mysterious he had sworn never to uncover.

A long time back, when Avalon was a flourishing town, Elias had cherished a lady named Anna. She was delightful, with wild red hair and a chuckle that seemed like music. They had intended to leave the island together, to begin another life away from the frightful murmurs of the past. However, one evening, not long before they were to leave, Anna vanished. Nobody at any point saw as her, and the town fell into despair. Some said she had been taken by the ocean, others guaranteed she had basically left suddenly. However, Elias had consistently known reality — she had left him a message, a hint that had driven him here, to this beacon, to the holding up storm.

The letter was the last piece. Elias needed to get back to where everything started. The ocean would surrender its confidential, and he would reveal reality with regards to what befell Anna — and maybe, the whole town of Avalon.

With the first light scarcely breaking, Elias brought the letter and strolled down the tight, winding way that prompted the precipices. The sea thundered underneath him, and as the primary beams of light penetrated the tempest mists, he saw it — something flickering on the rocks beneath.

The ocean had surrendered its confidential finally.

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