It's your choice now. You can stay here
and learn on this level,
which is quite a bit higher
than the one you left, by the way,
or you can go back
and keep working in the flock.
The elders were hoping
for some kind of disaster,
but they're startled
that you would oblige them so well.
I want to go back to the flock.
Of course! There's a new group...
I haven't even begun.
You're sure you wouldn't rather stay?
Let's get going.
All right, Fletcher.
Remember what we were saying
about our body being nothing
more than thought itself?
Fletcher.
Fletcher?
It's true.
Jon, I'm beginning to see.
- He's alive!
- He touched him with a feather.
- Brought him to life!
- He is the Son of the Great Gull.
It's a trick! Don't listen to him!
He's a devil!
He's the devil!
He is the devil. He is the devil!
I tell you he is the devil!
He can destroy us all!
He can destroy the flock!
Kill him!
Kill him!
Kill him!
Kill him!
Kill him!
Would you feel better if we left?
They wanted to kill us!
How did we get away?
Like everything else,
Fletcher, practice.
I don't understand.
The flock was gonna kill us.
Our own flock!
Why? Remember what you said
about loving the flock enough
to return to them and help them live?
They wanted us dead.
They're a mob. They're killers.
How can you love them?
You don't love hatred and evil,
of course.
You have to practise and see the good
in every one of them
and help them see it in themselves.
That's what we mean by love.
It's fun...
when you get the idea of it.
I remember a fierce young bird,
for instance.
Fletcher Lynd Seagull, his name.
Just been made outcast,
ready to fight the flock to the death,
getting a start on building his own
bitter hell out on the far cliffs.
And here he is today,
building his own heaven instead
and leading the whole flock
in that direction.
Me? Leading?
You're the instructor here.
You can't leave us.
Don't you think there might be
other flocks, other Fletchers
that need an instructor now
more than this one?
But me, Jon?
I'm just a plain seagull, and you're...
Oh, yes, yes, yes, I know.
The only Son of the Great Gull,
I suppose.
Fletcher, you don't need me anymore.
All the younger ones in the flock
and some of the others too
are ready to follow you now.
All you need is to keep finding
the real, unlimited Fletcher Seagull.
He's your instructor.
And don't let them spread
silly rumours about me
or try to make me some
sort of a god, will you, Fletcher?
I'm a seagull. I like to fly, maybe.
Jonathan.
We both have learned what we were meant
to learn in our time together, Fletcher.
That the way to find perfection
and love is within us.
Look with your understanding.
Find out what you already know.
Use it, Fletcher.
Teach it, show it forth.
And you'll know the way to fly.