It had been a painful process, full of promises broken and words unspoken. She'd told Harold she would come with him, had been packed up and ready to go, just one thing left to do, one person to bid farewell to.
It hadn't quite worked out that way. She went to tell Ephram that she was leaving forever and he could come along, if he wanted. He...hadn't taken it well. Nor had Marlena, for that matter. She broke down, cried a little, and promised him she would stay with him. The things she'd packed, she sent back into the nothing of which they'd been made, with a wave of her hand and a thought. Maybe there was something worth staying for, after all.
She spent the next couple weeks in the treehouse that Harold had left to her, occasionally looking down at the beach to see Ephram making love to the pretty blonde nurse, or the enthusiastic young engineer. He didn't see her. He didn't touch her, again, the way he had when she agreed to stay. She felt her resolve slowly slipping.
Marlena called back her pack and everything in it, discovering in the process that she could do that--she didn't need to specify everything inside, just to note that it was everything that had been there last time. She had written a letter by hand on old-fashioned paper, explaining to Ephram that she was leaving, and why, and not apologizing but still hoping he would forgive her. She would leave the tree to him, even though she still thought of it, to herself, as Harold's tree; she'd leave the Trollop Hat, also formerly Harold's, to Riley. He'd appreciate it, she hoped--it suited him, at least. He'd been nice to her for no real reason; it was the least she could do, really.
It was all planned out. She'd leave the letter for Ephram and slip away in the early morning hours without saying goodbye. The only question was well. Tomorrow, she told herself, and the next day, tomorrow. She reread the letter. She'd unfolded and refolded it so many times it was beginning to weaken at the creases. She was doing exactly that when Emma found her, and knocked at the door of the treehouse, and asked what she was doing, what the pack was for, where she was going, what the hell she thought she was doing, and how could she do that to them?
Emma's words to her had stung, but not as much as the look on Ephram's face when he came to find her. She told him, harshly, why she couldn't stay--no sugar-coating on the words this time. Her soul would stagnate, she told him, if she stayed. He tried to change her mind, and this time, she resisted. They wouldn't understand, no one on the beach would, least of all Emma, who had her Alex--becoming, as someone phrased it, the new Harold and Scotty. Marlena had given Ephram a chance to offer that for her, and he hadn't.
Still she did not leave. She kept her distance from Ephram on the beach, still watching, still waiting. Emma forgave her for wanting to leave, and things returned to normal.
Marlena wasn't sure what triggered the revelation. It was an evening like any other. There was no particular reason for Scotty's long-empty hammock to catch her eye, for her to realize that there on the beach, she could handwave just about anything into existence. The portal, miles away, didn't have to be the only one. She handwaved her assembled gear down from the house and put it on--the pack on her back; phaser and agonizer tucked into her sash, firmly knotted about her waist; the impulsive broadsword slung over her shoulder and the Adventure Hat firmly on her head. Then she willed into existence a second portal to Rhy'din--two-way, and firmly anchored in place. She took a deep breath and stepped through it.
She'd been half-expecting the horrible vice-like sensation she'd experienced upon first leaving her own universe, but there was nothing so dramatic. It felt merely like leaving the warm beach for a cooler, more stable place where suddenly the air in her lungs felt real.
It felt like waking up from a dream.
The air was chillier than it had been, the sky overcast. She was in an alley, she discovered, the portal next to a dead end. She walked to the other end, stepping around puddles, and looked back at the buildings on either side of the alley. One appeared to be a tavern, like the ones historically preserved on Earth. The sign above the door read "Red Dragon Inn".
Well, Harold had told her there were dragons here. It seemed as good a place as any to start. She pulled open the door and stepped into the interior of the tavern.
It hadn't quite worked out that way. She went to tell Ephram that she was leaving forever and he could come along, if he wanted. He...hadn't taken it well. Nor had Marlena, for that matter. She broke down, cried a little, and promised him she would stay with him. The things she'd packed, she sent back into the nothing of which they'd been made, with a wave of her hand and a thought. Maybe there was something worth staying for, after all.
She spent the next couple weeks in the treehouse that Harold had left to her, occasionally looking down at the beach to see Ephram making love to the pretty blonde nurse, or the enthusiastic young engineer. He didn't see her. He didn't touch her, again, the way he had when she agreed to stay. She felt her resolve slowly slipping.
Marlena called back her pack and everything in it, discovering in the process that she could do that--she didn't need to specify everything inside, just to note that it was everything that had been there last time. She had written a letter by hand on old-fashioned paper, explaining to Ephram that she was leaving, and why, and not apologizing but still hoping he would forgive her. She would leave the tree to him, even though she still thought of it, to herself, as Harold's tree; she'd leave the Trollop Hat, also formerly Harold's, to Riley. He'd appreciate it, she hoped--it suited him, at least. He'd been nice to her for no real reason; it was the least she could do, really.
It was all planned out. She'd leave the letter for Ephram and slip away in the early morning hours without saying goodbye. The only question was well. Tomorrow, she told herself, and the next day, tomorrow. She reread the letter. She'd unfolded and refolded it so many times it was beginning to weaken at the creases. She was doing exactly that when Emma found her, and knocked at the door of the treehouse, and asked what she was doing, what the pack was for, where she was going, what the hell she thought she was doing, and how could she do that to them?
Emma's words to her had stung, but not as much as the look on Ephram's face when he came to find her. She told him, harshly, why she couldn't stay--no sugar-coating on the words this time. Her soul would stagnate, she told him, if she stayed. He tried to change her mind, and this time, she resisted. They wouldn't understand, no one on the beach would, least of all Emma, who had her Alex--becoming, as someone phrased it, the new Harold and Scotty. Marlena had given Ephram a chance to offer that for her, and he hadn't.
Still she did not leave. She kept her distance from Ephram on the beach, still watching, still waiting. Emma forgave her for wanting to leave, and things returned to normal.
Marlena wasn't sure what triggered the revelation. It was an evening like any other. There was no particular reason for Scotty's long-empty hammock to catch her eye, for her to realize that there on the beach, she could handwave just about anything into existence. The portal, miles away, didn't have to be the only one. She handwaved her assembled gear down from the house and put it on--the pack on her back; phaser and agonizer tucked into her sash, firmly knotted about her waist; the impulsive broadsword slung over her shoulder and the Adventure Hat firmly on her head. Then she willed into existence a second portal to Rhy'din--two-way, and firmly anchored in place. She took a deep breath and stepped through it.
She'd been half-expecting the horrible vice-like sensation she'd experienced upon first leaving her own universe, but there was nothing so dramatic. It felt merely like leaving the warm beach for a cooler, more stable place where suddenly the air in her lungs felt real.
It felt like waking up from a dream.
The air was chillier than it had been, the sky overcast. She was in an alley, she discovered, the portal next to a dead end. She walked to the other end, stepping around puddles, and looked back at the buildings on either side of the alley. One appeared to be a tavern, like the ones historically preserved on Earth. The sign above the door read "Red Dragon Inn".
Well, Harold had told her there were dragons here. It seemed as good a place as any to start. She pulled open the door and stepped into the interior of the tavern.