Memories
Angel Day
Disclaimer: I don't own the X-Men or any of their characters. Tora and Weapon X-ii are my own though.
"I'm worried Hank. Jamie's acting…oddly. It's like he'll scream when he should be fine and he's calm when he should be scared. It's like he's in a different world."
Hank frowned.
"Maybe he is Tora. According to Reed, a link has been opened between a number of different realities. But most of the realities have a few things in common. You and Logan are together and have a son. There are about three where that hasn't happened or isn't entirely obvious. Although 1610 has got Logan's son by an unknown mother so it is possible that he could be Jamie."
"An unknown mother?"
"Well, Logan is extremely mysterious in that reality. Er…no one is entirely sure who he is."
"And in this world?"
"Only Etana did…"
"Which is now the same as nobody is entirely sure who he is. So you and Reed Richards go around poking your noses into other realities, think my son is responsible and don't bother to tell me what is happening?"
"Yes, that's sort of it."
She sighed and then unstrapped the armband. She needed these check-ups to make sure her healing was keeping up now it was back at full strength.
"Er…Tora…?"
"What is it Hank?"
"Brian Braddock got in touch last night. They…well…Excalibur has…well…"
"Hank, spit it out."
"They've found Etana's diaries. Going back centuries. They've sent them over to you, as Etana did will you all her personal papers and so on."
"They read them!"
"No. All papers have been left as they were. Also, none of Excalibur can read Hebrew. Tora, Etana kept a diary since she was eleven, an impressive feat given the time she was brought up in."
"She told me about that. Her uncle believed she needed to be useful, as she wasn't going to be a wife or mother."
"Her uncle…"
"Believed she had the potential to be something special. He taught her to read and write and told her to live up to her father's ideals. She said sometime she thought he never saw her as Etana but as Eitan, her father. Achav and Eitan were extremely close as boys. Her aunt Mara was never as welcoming."
"Her uncle was entirely baseline I assume?"
"He was. Her father was apparently identical to Warren in terms of mutation, and possibly that Guthrie kid."
"I did notice their X-Gene was almost identical in DNA terms."
"That's the Cheyarafim for you. Look, Hank, when you get the diaries, send them up to me."
"You're going to read them?"
"I'm going to burn them."
Jean gasped.
"All that history…"
"All those personal outpourings. Jean, Etana guarded her diaries with greater care than Irene Adler guarded hers."
"But…"
"It was respect for Etana's wishes."
Tora dropped the match onto the pile of papers. The papyrus scrolls caught first, ancient ink faded away. Then the paper notebooks and bulky vellum tomes. All Etana's life, recorded in beautiful calligraphy and in a steady hand, burning over the grave. Smoke swirled and for a second, Tora thought she saw a girl in the smoke, a girl standing excited as she prepared for her Bat Mitzvah. The guilt Tora felt. She had read one scroll, read the diary of an eleven-year-old Etana, read her dreams and fears. She knew that Etana had wanted to be like Deborah, that her aunt had beaten her for voicing that wish. Read about Etana's dreams, about her wish to find her mother who she had never been told about. About her wish to have black hair and no fur and to have normal eyes. All a child's hopes, so contrasting with the woman Tora knew. Where there had been poise, there was nervousness. Where there had been strength, there was shyness. But there were still a few comments that showed that it was Etana. Including a few references to the Master. The Master who had brought Etana and her father's body home. The Master who had only said 'Her name is Etana' before leaving into the night.
The final piece of fluttering ash fell to Earth. Tora turned and walked away, not noticing the words written there.
Maybe if she had, everything would have turned out differently.
Phoenix frowned.
"I can't read Hebrew."
"It doesn't matter what it says."
"It does!"
"I'll tell you later."
Logan frowned. An extra few lines had been added to Etana's epitaph. Unfortunately they were in Hebrew. A low cough made him turn.
"Hey Chuck. Didn't you have difficulty getting out here?"
"Nothing I couldn't handle."
The paraplegic reached out a hand and ran it over the inscription.
"It's been a long time since I last needed to read Hebrew."
"What does it say?"
"Here lies Etana, daughter of Eitan, son of Caleb of the tribe of Judah."
"She…tribe?"
"One of the twelve tribes of Israel. Don't you know that Logan?"
"I did. It's come back now. But at the time? No. Why are her father and grandfather's names there?"
"Because I think Etana was proud of her heritage and someone knew how proud she was of it."
"Who?"
"Who had access to Etana's diaries?"
"Tora?"
"I think this was a apology for reading the diary."
Logan glanced at the slightly wobbly letters but knew how heartfelt the message was.
Jean sighed.
"She felt so guilty for reading three pages."
"It was private."
"It was three pages."
A.N. I did have the Hebrew translation for Etana's diaries but unfortunately, the fanfiction and my word processing document can't format the right to left stlye of writing and invert the symbols, scrambling the meaning.