The Final Chapter: The Point of No Return
And You Say I Never Get You Flowers
Previously…
Chapter 1: Expecto Proposal
Chapter 2: You Have an Owl
Chapter 3: It Ends at the Beginning
Chapter 4: Incendio
Chapter 5: Through the Looking Glass
Chapter 6: A Song of Ice and Fire
Interlude: A Brief History of Le Papillon
Chapter 7: The Point of No Return
The ground rushed beneath me, the sound of my pounding heart filling my head. Fear seized my throat, sapping the breath from my heaving lungs. The hill was steep, and every stride I took only took me a half step forward.
Twin stone walls, waist high, bordered the trail. The dirt was damp, but firm, and strips of grass ran along its sides like the mat of a frame. By my estimate, the nearest train station was eight miles by foot through the Rockefeller Estate forest. Luckily, I was a runner. Unfortunately, I was running out of time. I had no choice but to risk heading home for my passport and crypto wallet. It would be four to six hours before I could get on a flight to a non-extradition country, but I had enough saved to buy a new set of papers and a convincing digital identity. I just had to get over this hill, and I’d be in the wind.
The canopies of four oak trees stretched over the top of the hill. I paused. Ahead of me lay an endless forest of undiscovered country. Behind me lay the traveled road. Gnarled roots sprung up from the ground and wrapped themselves around my ankles.
If I stayed, I’d be bound to pain that wasn’t mine, consequences I didn’t deserve, and a lifestyle rife with compromise. And if I were lucky, fifty years would pass, rewarding me with a 50/50 chance of waking up next to a dead body. I was facing a life sentence, with only seconds to act.
I donned the white mask I carried — revealing the Phantom of Self. The ceramic slashed up my face from the angle of my jaw to my third eye. I pried free of the roots climbing my legs and stepped back towards Nicole. Our games of make believe were at an end.
She looked just the same as she did the first time I’d noticed her on the grounds of Windsor — the most beautiful girl I’d ever seen. Except now, she was the master of her own soul; smiling, light-hearted and beaming with joy, she was a force of creation — the Girl Who Loved.
I turned my back to her and set the speaker down on the wall. The forest beckoned; the ensnaring roots receded. It was my last chance to run.
Her footsteps grew louder.
Suddenly, music from the Phantom of The Opera flooded the canopy and I whipped toward Nicole and sang my first bar.
“Past the point of no return...
No backward glances,
Our games of make believe are at an end.”
“Past all thought of if or when,
No use resisting.
Abandon thought and let the dream descend.”
“What raging fire shall flood their soul,
What rich desire unlocks its door,
What sweet seduction lies before us.”
“Past the point of no return,
The final threshold.
What warm unspoken secrets will we learn?
Beyond the point of no return.”
I heard my words echo in the canopy. Past the point of no return… I didn’t want to find the way back. Standing right there in front of me — clad in flowers — was the way forward.
The mask burned, searing itself into my skin. I had to get it off, or in moments, it would be all that was left of me. I clawed at the edges, only to scorch my fingers.
I felt a source of cold radiating from Nicole and reached for it. Stumbling backwards, I pulled from her finger a diamond ring she wore.
With a desperate, forceful motion, I took the diamond and sliced through the mask, which fell away from me and turned to ash, scattering in the wind. A red rose apperated in my jacket pocket, the remnant of the seventh and final horcrux.
I walked towards Nicole holding the flower. As I placed the final remnant in the quiver, roots gently slid back up my legs.
I took Nicole by the hand. “And you say I never get you flowers.”
My knee slammed into the dirt, my body pulled to the earth by roots, which had encircled my torso. I looked into Nicole’s eyes and realized that this was where I would plant my seed. I pulled the engagement ring from my pocket and spoke the following incantation: “Nicole Alexandra Shipley, will you marry me?”
She smiled, and said, “Yes.”
As I slipped the ring on her finger, the roots left the earth and became a part of me. I could stand and I embraced her.
There was just one final scroll, which I handed to Nicole.
“So here we are, back where I knew I’d always find you.
Let go of the past, the future, and the illusion of yourself. Paint the life you choose, free from the scars of anger, shame, and doubt, where you are loved as a sister, and you find true love without self.
That is your Heart’s Quiver.
- Your Loving Grandma, Eileen Potter (E.P.)”
Nicole’s grandmother, Eileen Potter (E.P.), had passed away two years ago, but her spirit had been guiding us throughout our journey.
On foot, we headed towards Blue Hill, down through a field of vegetables, to “plant what remains in the garden at the bottom of the hill.”
Stepping onto the outer terrace of the stone structure, we were escorted inside to a private room, where, lying in wait for us, secretly, were our family and friends.
We planted the Heart’s Quiver at the head of the table, greeted our loved ones, and tried in vain to explain the proposal.
The Beginning.