Epilogue

It was hard to believe she was no longer just visiting.

Three years back in the fabric of local time, a younger, considerably less-experienced woman slammed shut the door of a house somewhere in this very same city and ran down the steps to where a vehicle awaited; it would deposit her beside another, very different vehicle to take her far away from the life she had known. She had returned many times since - once for several months, but this time her stay was likely to last a lifetime.

There was no possibility of fitting back into her old life; she had seen and learned too much to ever look at the world around her with quite the same indifference she had once felt. Who could witness life both before the creation and after the destruction of their world and not feel changed by the experience? Knowing that each tomorrow was as much a part of history as yesterday. The challenge - to live with that knowledge without losing her sanity - was as great as any she'd faced in three years of time travel.

The last rays of sunlight were reflected on the gently rippling surface of the River Thames as glistening bands of gold. High above the water, on the Tower Bridge walkway, she stood alone with her thoughts.

Fatigue numbed her mind, and the enduring chill at the closing of the day gnawed at her body. She gazed briefly on the darkening shape of the warehouse, the last point of contact with a myriad of worlds and times. It was over.

Tegan turned away and walked into the gathering darkness.

Prologue | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | Epilogue