Plus Five, Minus Five - Epilogue
It was time to go home, and Ada knew it. Spending so much time in the future had caused her to think very carefully about the time she was going to return to. There were so many things ahead for her and her family -- many amazing things that were so easily threatened by something as simple as a reckless lifestyle, or a poor decision.
It had been a poor decision for her to ask her godfather for help. Ada realized that she had never been warned against Theron by her father, but he had made it clear that some people were not always forgiving. In a way, she had to wonder why it had been passed down to her through half-riddles and near-secrecy; why couldn't her father have been straight with her, and told her that eventually Theron would become the type of person that always needed a form of payment? She could have avoided a lot of turmoil and heartache, for both versions of herself and Ghent.
As she finished packing the last of her bag, she lifted up the sealed envelope and looked over her writing on the front. It was addressed to the future family that she hoped she could look forward to, and it had a silly illustration of rainclouds and an umbrella in one corner. Ada felt a little peculiar about leaving a note in the future, but she had things she needed to say, and they were best left until after she was gone.
She couldn't help but think of the older Ghent, and how calm he seemed to be through the whole ordeal. It was as if every movement he made was exactly what destiny had set forth -- it all seemed so effortless to him. If she didn't know any better, she would have guessed that he had come back from the future, just so he knew exactly what to do. But, she did know better.
The older Ghent seemed so familiar because she could see so much of him in her Ghent already. Had it not been for one being five years older, she would have guessed they were the exact same person.
Oddly enough, Adalia had struggled briefly with the idea that her Ghent would be willing to give up their child. It had confused her, and nearly made her blood boil, until she really considered the situation. A few days prior, they hadn't even known they had a child. They hadn't known that Theron wanted the child. They hadn't known *why* he had wanted the child. And, sadly, Ghent had not been warned properly that her godfather could have a very dark soul. Had the situations been reversed, she would have likely made the same decisions as Ghent had, so how angry could she really be? All of it would have been prevented, if she would have thought to tell Ghent that Theron was mostly bad news. She would have to be more open with him.
Briefly, as she finished tidying up the small mess she had made, Adalia turned her thoughts to her future self. She couldn't remember much, really. It seemed that as the years passed, she had become much more reserved as at ease in life. There had been no ramblings about attacking trees, or tirades about the weather. She could imagine, though, that with enough incentive, she could probably become a fairly normal person, at least towards her own family.
And there was Hannah. She looked so much like Ghent, that there would be no denying that she was his. It really made Ada happy, too, because she would want their child to have his markers. The red hair and dark eyes complimented her, and with the little round face, Hannah looked like a perfect picture of what a hopeful future could bring.
A small sigh escaped her, as she passed the baby's room, and placed the letter on the small hallway table between the rooms. Whether it made a difference, or not, she wanted to be sure that she'd said what was on her mind. So, with her packing done, and everything returned as close to normal as possible, she headed out to go back to her time, giving one last glance into her future, before stepping out the door.
---------------
To our very hospitable, temporal hosts:
Thank you for knowing and understanding. Things would have been difficult without you.
From what I've been told about time, it can be such a tricky thing. Theron always said that there were millions of outcomes for every choice we make. If so, then I hope that the choices I make can lead me here. I can't imagine a better life, if I tried.
Thank you again, and with any luck, we'll be you soon!
All my love,
Ada
((This was written for play on January 13th, 2008, and reposted here for continuity purposes. Any questions should be directed by PM or e-mail to Adalia Dodd))
It was time to go home, and Ada knew it. Spending so much time in the future had caused her to think very carefully about the time she was going to return to. There were so many things ahead for her and her family -- many amazing things that were so easily threatened by something as simple as a reckless lifestyle, or a poor decision.
It had been a poor decision for her to ask her godfather for help. Ada realized that she had never been warned against Theron by her father, but he had made it clear that some people were not always forgiving. In a way, she had to wonder why it had been passed down to her through half-riddles and near-secrecy; why couldn't her father have been straight with her, and told her that eventually Theron would become the type of person that always needed a form of payment? She could have avoided a lot of turmoil and heartache, for both versions of herself and Ghent.
As she finished packing the last of her bag, she lifted up the sealed envelope and looked over her writing on the front. It was addressed to the future family that she hoped she could look forward to, and it had a silly illustration of rainclouds and an umbrella in one corner. Ada felt a little peculiar about leaving a note in the future, but she had things she needed to say, and they were best left until after she was gone.
She couldn't help but think of the older Ghent, and how calm he seemed to be through the whole ordeal. It was as if every movement he made was exactly what destiny had set forth -- it all seemed so effortless to him. If she didn't know any better, she would have guessed that he had come back from the future, just so he knew exactly what to do. But, she did know better.
The older Ghent seemed so familiar because she could see so much of him in her Ghent already. Had it not been for one being five years older, she would have guessed they were the exact same person.
Oddly enough, Adalia had struggled briefly with the idea that her Ghent would be willing to give up their child. It had confused her, and nearly made her blood boil, until she really considered the situation. A few days prior, they hadn't even known they had a child. They hadn't known that Theron wanted the child. They hadn't known *why* he had wanted the child. And, sadly, Ghent had not been warned properly that her godfather could have a very dark soul. Had the situations been reversed, she would have likely made the same decisions as Ghent had, so how angry could she really be? All of it would have been prevented, if she would have thought to tell Ghent that Theron was mostly bad news. She would have to be more open with him.
Briefly, as she finished tidying up the small mess she had made, Adalia turned her thoughts to her future self. She couldn't remember much, really. It seemed that as the years passed, she had become much more reserved as at ease in life. There had been no ramblings about attacking trees, or tirades about the weather. She could imagine, though, that with enough incentive, she could probably become a fairly normal person, at least towards her own family.
And there was Hannah. She looked so much like Ghent, that there would be no denying that she was his. It really made Ada happy, too, because she would want their child to have his markers. The red hair and dark eyes complimented her, and with the little round face, Hannah looked like a perfect picture of what a hopeful future could bring.
A small sigh escaped her, as she passed the baby's room, and placed the letter on the small hallway table between the rooms. Whether it made a difference, or not, she wanted to be sure that she'd said what was on her mind. So, with her packing done, and everything returned as close to normal as possible, she headed out to go back to her time, giving one last glance into her future, before stepping out the door.
---------------
To our very hospitable, temporal hosts:
Thank you for knowing and understanding. Things would have been difficult without you.
From what I've been told about time, it can be such a tricky thing. Theron always said that there were millions of outcomes for every choice we make. If so, then I hope that the choices I make can lead me here. I can't imagine a better life, if I tried.
Thank you again, and with any luck, we'll be you soon!
All my love,
Ada
((This was written for play on January 13th, 2008, and reposted here for continuity purposes. Any questions should be directed by PM or e-mail to Adalia Dodd))