The Accounts of Jean-Pierre Accardo
[This is the end.
What happened to Huey and Monica afterwards? That is none of my concern, and to reveal the continuation of their lives would be a tactless thing to do.
The most important thing is the fact that I had committed many sins.
Because I fell to my own desire for glory and wrote these plays on incomplete information, I ended up partially causing the creation of the Mask Makers.
I had also ended up cementing the stubborn beliefs of both House Dormentaire and Lotto Valentino. It would not be an exaggeration to say that the following year was a never-ending battle between the two powers, but this is not the place for such recollections.
However, after all was said and done, I had committed one more sin.
With a renewed sense of self, I altered the play one final time.
It was played in the Lotto Valentino theatre despite the powerful protests of House Dormentaire.
I had made a change to the final scene.
In the end, the character modeled after Monica created an organization called the Mask Makers. But she was stabbed to death by the witch's son and burned to death with the ship. The young man had feared that she would reveal the secrets of their magic to the world.
This was the story of the revised ending.
Anyone who knew Huey Laforet would understand that he had been represented by the witch's son.
By writing this play, I had tricked the world into believing that Monica had died.
I had intentionally added fabrications into my story in order to deceive the world.
This was my final sin, and my own way of repentance.
But this truth must not yet be made known, at least not until my own death. The world must believe that Monica had been killed by Huey, if she is to live a new life in some faraway land.
This is why I would like to make a request of you, the one who has finished reading my letters.
I am not asking you to reveal the truth to the world. I would be thankful if you could clear Huey Laforet's name of the murder, but I will not specifically ask this of you. After all, it is doubtful if his name still remains in your era.
But I ask that you, at least, know this one truth.
I've taken too much time. I will end this letter here.
To you, the one who has managed to read through my selfish confessions: you are free to forget about me, but there is one thing I ask you to remember.
Monica Campanella found salvation in Huey Laforet.
Please, never forget this truth.
You have my deepest gratitude.
Having gone through the entirety of the accounts, the young man slowly placed the bundle of parchment back onto his desk.
He had no way of knowing whether or not the accounts were authentic.
He did not care about the powers of immortality that had been described earlier in the book. That did not matter to him.
The young man, having gotten a glimpse into the thoughts of his ancestor, was truly moved. He understood that his ancestor's noble character had been passed down all the way to himself.
How was he to react to these letters?
How would this change his heart?
He did not yet know the answer, but the young man decided to offer up a prayer.
Many things in Lotto Valentino must have changed since then, but the young man looked up at the unchanging sun, shining brightly in the sky. He closed his eyes and prayed quietly.
He wanted to believe that, at least, Monica and Huey were able to live out the rest of their lives in peace.
He prayed through the sun, towards the distant past, hoping his wishes would be granted.
Yet the sun promised nothing, silently shining over Lotto Valentino as it always had.
From the distant past to the far-off future it shone, forever and always.
On to the Afterword!