Charles frowned at the rather plain envelope in his hands. It bore the address of the school, the letters scrawled in a style he hadn’t seen before, a stamp of a horse and bird standing together, united, but it was otherwise blank.

With a sigh he reached over, picked up the silver letter opener and slid it in the lip of the letter. A quick pull and he slid the delicate paper out. Pale, pink, with a distinct scent that was sweetly exotic it was obvious from the desk of a woman.

He unfolded it carefully and settled deeper into his chair. The first thing that struck him was that the scrawled words didn’t seem to have the same, flawless print of any pen he’d ever seen. Curiously he wondered what had been used before he turned his attention to the letter.

Dear Charles Xavier,

You do not know me. You do not want to know me. I am one to be kept at a distance and with good cause. I am the head of the Aldr Clan, we are peaceful and just. However, I am not writing to give you a history lesson, or to tempt you into our fold.

No, I am writing to inform you that your attempts to contain one of our own shall not be tolerated. They are together, they are one. You have no say in this. It’s been written before my time began…Light and dark as they are shall join to create life, yet have the power to take life.

You wonder of which I speak. Then is shall make it clearer to you. The ones you call Logan and Rogue, the ones you have been so ardently opposed to becoming involved are part of us. You think him too jaded, and her too innocent. These are petty mortal tags which have no relevance to either of them. You have no let them go; you continue even now to hunt for them, to seek them out.

Stop. Go no further in your search. If you force my hand, I will promise you will not like the ending. I have been ruthless in the past, and shall be again if forced to. I ask that you let them go, let them live the lives that were written for them by my grandmother. Your future has already been written, stray from the path and it shall come to an unwelcome end. I beseech thee; trust in the love they share.

In closing, I offer to you this question. Have you ever known what true love, real love is? I have, I’ve watched it grow for centuries. I am an immortal as is Logan, and soon Rogue will take her place upon the council. They are loyal to you, but you must not judge what you can not understand. Let them love each other, or face the wrath of my Clan.

Sincerely,

Bestla, mother of Gods.

Charles shivered at the sudden chill in the air and tossed the page aside. He rolled to the window and stared out over the lush greenery of the back lawn. Nestled together in the shadows, far from anyone’s curious stare was two simple granite statues. He didn’t need to be standing before them to know what the inscriptions read.

*Wherever you are, I hope that you know you can come home anytime.* He thought, *Time and forgiveness are on your side.*

The sun crept across his desk, drifting over the letter that seemed to sparkle in the light. Long after Charles had left his office the letter seemed to dance upon his desk, until a slight breeze drifted across it and carried the letter to the floor where it disappeared under his desk.

The sun winked and danced across the polished wood, entering a domain sealed to the fresh spring air outside, and locked from the prying eyes of the mansion’s residents.

It would be a longtime before Charles got his wish, before he understood exactly what the letter had meant…and he welcomed the truth even as he slipped into eternity.