Summary: After witnessing a hate crime, Nuala ponders the nature of
love, hate and humanity.

Disclaimer: Nuala, Lucien and the Dreaming belong to DC comics.
I'm not making any money from this so please don't sue.

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"Letter from Inside"

by queenB (queenb67@hotmail.com)

Dearest Lucien,

As I sit here in this coffee house writing to you, the act of
putting pen to paper seems very odd in and of itself. When did
communication become so remote? So happenstance. So futile. How
much more real it seems to talk to someone, to look in their face
and know their exact reaction to the words... perhaps I only feel
this way because I don't know how this letter will reach you. New
York is so very far away from the Dreaming. Perhaps I write this
only for myself, as perhaps all people do who write letters.
Perhaps the letter box is only a trash receptacle and we pour our
hearts into confessions and whispers of devotion only to have
them thrown away at the end of the day. Wouldn't that be the most
tragic thing?

Perhaps not.

Lucien, I am not well. As you can probably tell from the
scattered thoughts I have put shape to with my pen. I am not well
at all. I am sad and angry beyond belief. I am finally learning
what it is truly like to live among the human race. Hate is an
ugly, ugly thing. And I never really saw it until today. I knew
it existed in my mind, in my head. But I never felt it in my
heart. And stars... how it hurts. Like a silver knife piercing my
very soul, it hurts.

I saw a woman, no larger than myself, beaten because of the color
of her skin. I hid beside a trash bin in the alley way behind the
Green Dragon where I work as it happened. And I swear as they
stuck her, I could see the light of hope leaving her eyes. And I
could do nothing. As they stole her innocence and her dreams, I
did nothing. I was scared. So very scared. For I knew that she
could be me. And as I write this I know in many ways she is.

If they can destroy one of their own just for looking a little
different... what would they do to someone who isn't even human?
What would they do to a Faerie? One little slip, one little
moment of being spotted without my glamour and I would fare even
worse. I am sure. And then I wonder... what kind of power does
magic have against that? Can magic change the human heart? Can it
sooth the anger inherent among an entire people? I don't think it
can.

I am rambling again. It is not fair of me to do this to you. Most
likely if you do ever get this correspondence, you will worry
yourself to no end. I am sorry. I don't mean to do that to you. I
just really need a friend right now. Someone who knows... someone
who has removed himself from the human race. And Cluracan would
hardly understand. He can't even comprehend what I am doing here
to begin with. He would only encourage me to hide from the
ugliness. He never could face reality, no matter what its form.
And no. I don't want to hide. I'm not going to return to the
Faerie, I'm not taking refuge in the Dreaming. I came here for a
reason, dear friend. And I am not going to turn my back on it.

I just need to remind myself of that reason. I came here to be
human. To be myself. We all have ugliness, Lucien. Even the Lord
Shaper. Especially him, I think. You know at first I thought I
came here to forget him and his creations after his death. But I
realized I can't. He is or was (I am still unsure) humanity's
imagination. Every dream he created was a reflection of his
subjects. He never created fear in the form of a nightmare, or
lust in the form of an erotic dream, or joy in the form of a
blissful fantasy. He simply harnessed what was already in
existence. There are many sides to humanity. Many faces to the
world of emotion. And they are all dependant on one another. And
I find this both horrifying and terribly wonderful. That is why
the hate I saw in those men's faces today stuck me to the bone.
They had that hate for a reason. It came from somewhere, some
catalyst. If I have learned anything in my time in the Dreaming
and on Earth it is that the opposite of love is not hate, it is
apathy. That these two emotions are not so far apart is almost
petrifying. They spring from the same well if you let them, if
you fall prey to the act of possession, of wanting, of taking or
in this case today... stealing.

Somehow, I think I know that you understand all of this. Perhaps
that is why I am writing to you. Your gentleness had to come from
somewhere. Your kindness seems the opposite to the violence of
this morning. Yet, we both know that extremes are never as
dissimilar as they appear to be. I am sure life with the Lord
Shaper taught you that. What makes you angry, Lucien? What would
you fight for? It's something that I am just beginning to
understand about myself. We all have our own battles... it just
depends on if the cause is truly just. And the bigots I saw in
the alley thought their cause was just. What a tangled and
confusing web of insanity humanity tends to weave around itself.
Will they ever find their way in the dark?

You know... I think they will. And I want to be here for it. I
want to see that glimmer of acceptance. It seems to come easily
in individuals. The whole is just much more difficult to sway or
to sooth as the case may be. But it will come. And do you know
why? It's that same fracture, the similarity of strong emotion.
For the sword cuts both ways. Love and hate are always chasing
one another in a fantastic race. They are so tightly bound to one
another than most cannot even see it. Because it is the same
impulse that causes them to build as causes them to destroy. If
they could only accept that particular truth, the world would be
a much happier place.

But right now, at the moment, it isn't. And I have to go fill out
some police reports at the station. At least justice is not
completely dead. She is very ill, but not dead. These assailants
will have a few weeks inconvenience for their troubles. But at
least that is better than no punishment at all.

Perhaps this is my battle, dear Lucien. Perhaps as an outsider I
can see more truth than they can. And maybe, just maybe... I can
help.

As always,

Nuala