Unusual

I’ll find strength in pain. –‘The Cave’ by Mumford and Sons

 

The Illusion Master had no name, not anymore. He’d had one once, long ago, but at the same time fairly recently.

It was a little confusing to people who didn’t know him personally.

He was a very confusing individual, which was part of the reason his title (and name for many) dealt with illusions. No one was quite as good at dodging the truth as he was.

Not that he enjoyed deceiving people, but it was what he was good at and what he could do in order to protect others. He may be the second most unusual member of the Guardians, but he was just as effective as the more ‘normal’ members of the group. Of course, if he hadn’t done his duty, then there wouldn’t be a group for anyone to be in at all.

He was both from the past and from a future that no longer was. That was why he was so unusual when compared to most everyone else in the Guardians.

He had come from a different future, one where the Chaos War was not a war, but a Massacre that had taken every single Guardian and twisted those that did not die immediately into things that would destroy those they had sworn to protect. There had been no one to fight back.

There had been a small chance that they could stop it where it began, but they would need to send someone back who wasn’t there when it started. It couldn’t be anyone that could accidentally stop their own chance from being born either otherwise they risked a paradox taking place.

Chaos didn’t need any additional fuel to It’s monstrous strength.

There had been three of them left at that point.

The Lunar Monarch, her Seer and the Illusion Master.

It had been enough, but it also left the Illusion Master as a strange outlier from another time and another place no matter when or where he was. Because no one else fully remembered what could have happened except what he had told others.

He wouldn’t tell anyone everything. They didn’t need the same shadows of Chaos at the edge of their thoughts like he had.

One Moment

To take another chance they say?
I‘m not entirely sure this is the way…
Maybe give me a moment or two,
Even longer, maybe, to decide what to do.
 
Time is not something you easily change
Remember that before you do something strange.
A moment in time must come and go
Very little of it is changeable, so
Even though you offer a very pretty deal
Let life go as it is, as it’s the only thing real.
 

I’ve been browsing through time travel stories lately (mostly fanfiction, it comes out faster than books you buy, though I still love those as well) and it made me think. Would such a thing be realistic in real life or is it just something to read about? If it were in real life, then what would the moments you’ve had be worth?

Time is not a toy to be trifled with.

Even if I do so in some of my own work.

Perspective

Sometimes I sit and wonder about what I’m seeing. The world has changed so much since I was a little girl that I scarcely recognize it. I’ve been on this earth less than three decades and yet if my sisters’ children were in my age because of some plot device (like time travel) then they would be very surprised with how little technology we had available for everyday use. Newspapers were still flung onto steps and the white pages were delivered at the same time as the yellow pages instead of needing to be requested.

Every morning before school started in my third grade class, I could look out across the valley I lived in from the Eastern benches and see large squares of green where farms were. Those large squares of green have steadily given way to more suburbs and roads. There are few farms still in my valley that are view-able from so great a distance. Those that do exist are scattered so that they could just as well be an equestrian or city part (both are few here as well).

My middle school is gone as well, the students temporarily transferred to another while the old one is completely demolished and then, hopefully, rebuilt. It’s boiler finally threw in its final towel and refused to be fixed after over 50 years of service. The tunnels and bomb shelters beneath the former brick behemoth having to be filled in as well in order to have a more sound foundation after years of disuse. Some of the teachers here taught families by the generation.

( Here was roll call on the first day I had Biology:

“I taught your mom and your dad and both of your parents.”

It went like this down several rows until he got to me.

“And I had all five of your sisters.”

There’s something like 11 years between the eldest of my sisters and the youngest. My parents were actually older than the teacher, but all the other parents were younger than him.)

Sending e-cards was considered too informal for any kind of social gathering and were discouraged for personal use as well because they weren’t considered ‘enough.’ Talking on the phone when having a guest over wasn’t rude and hardly anyone in my schools even knew what anime was. Google was an infant, YouTube didn’t exist and being able to purchase any songs online was the cause for scandal as the recording companies cried foul. There were chat rooms starting to become popular and online forums were starting up. Meeting people online was still considered nothing more than play time and not taken seriously unless they wanted to ‘meet in real life.’

Time spent online wasn’t real to people even as it slowly started to take up more and more of their actual time from their ‘real’ lives.

When you were bullied at school it was either face to face or behind the cupped hands of gossip. There wasn’t an online media service where you could target someone from across the country for whatever reason bullies use to justify their behavior. Hatred still existed and so did jealousy, it was just a little more like dirt in your face and snowballs hiding rocks and pine cones thrown full strength at the back of your heard and less like written victimization and the ruination of someone’s character in the online community.

Any kind of online community stayed online and didn’t bleed into daily life as much before. Networking was done face to face in the flesh and not over a screen.

There’s so much more to mention, but not enough time in which to do so.

So what will the next ten years bring for me to see and live through? Perspective is always changing.

Prompt for this: http://writegear.wordpress.com/2013/10/02/writers-block-41/comment-page-1/#comment-77