text: > Look around
  The Ivory Tower, where you started this strange adventure, now lies in ruins. Its walls lie scorched about you, the roof rent to the open sky. The stars, in their impassive brilliance, illuminate the devastation below. Over the Tower's remains you catch glimpses of the fires below, trees smoldering in the darkness.
  
  The Tapestry seems to have survived the Tower's destruction intact.
  
  > Go west
  Off to one side, built into the wall, is a small fireplace.
  
  A strange new addition to the room is the small tapestry hanging on the eastern wall.
  
  Your bedroom has been one of the few areas where Sarah's influence has been at work. You felt the presence of her long after she had gone, and a few months after her death put it back the way it had been. A door to the east leads back to the den and to the south is the bathroom.
  
  Somehow, in this strange world of the past, Sarah still lives. She's lying, half asleep, in bed.
  
  Beside the bed is a small endtable.
  
  > Smother sarah
  Clutching the pillow, you consider it. It would be so simple. She would die in her sleep, painless, quiet. And she'd be free of it forever. Your hands tremble as you think of it...
  
  Sarah looks up at you with wide open eyes. You turn away horrified. You can't do it, you just can't do it. You take a deep breath and try and calm yourself.
  
  > Go north
  Somehow, in this strange world of the past, Sarah still lives. She's lying, half asleep, in bed.
  
  Beside the bed is a small endtable.
  
  > Go east
  Off to one side, built into the wall, is a small fireplace.
  
  A strange new addition to the room is the small tapestry hanging on the eastern wall.
  
  > Smother sarah
  Clutching the pillow, you consider it. It would be so simple. She would die in her sleep, painless, quiet. And she'd be free of it forever. Your hands tremble as you think of it...
  
  Gently, tenderly, you stroke her cheek and kiss her forehead. Then, you silently place the pillow over her face and wait. Nothing happens for a few moments, then Sarah's breathing suddenly becomes irregular. For a brief moment you're seized with panic. You want to take the pillow away, make her breathe again.
  
  You bite your lip painfully and take a deep breath. Sarah's breathing is still irregular. She gasps once, and then her breathing slows. Slower and slower the breaths come, until, at last they stop altogether.
  
  You gently remove the pillow. Her eyes are closed and her face is, for the first time since the illness, peaceful. Your vision blurs as tears fill your eyes and you collapse, crying unashamedly. You go on and on, all the pain and sorrow of what has happened pouring out of you. After what seems an eternity, you recover enough to stand again.
  
  > open the drawer
  A cold gust of wind arises from nowhere and your hand is violently forced back from the endtable. The wind rises in intensity and a swirling smoke begins to rise from the ground. A dark writing cloud forms before you and from it a cloaked figure emerges. Its face lost in the swirling mists behind its hood, the figure speaks:
  
  The wraith laughs coldly. "So, we meet again!"
  
  "And, so again, you flee before me! Know you now well enough that it is folly to face MY likes! Get you gone, you have no more business here!"
  
  Again, the Wraith vanishes, and Atropos of the Parcae stands before you.
  
  "Once again, you have chosen rightly, mortal. Hubris discarded, you have followed you Moira, as well you should. The Spectre of your guilt stays appeased."
  
  She turns and looks at the endtable. "What is there shall remain unknown, as it should be."
  
  Atropos turns back to you. "The second step is now complete, Timothy. One more along my path remains, once more along the threads of your Moira you must travel. Go now."
  
  The whirling threads appear, and tear you from where you stand into their heaving embrace. They leave you, gasping, back in the Tower...
  
  The Ivory Tower, where you started this strange adventure, now lies in ruins. Its walls lie scorched about you, the roof rent to the open sky. The stars, in their impassive brilliance, illuminate the devastation below. Over the Tower's remains you catch glimpses of the fires below, trees smoldering in the darkness.
  
  The Tapestry seems to have survived the Tower's destruction intact.
  
  > touch third
  Suddenly the rumbling returns, and the threads throw you into their heaving embrace. After a time they leave you gasping on another strange and distant shore...
  
  You turn the corner with a sigh, glancing at the street sign in a feeble, half-hearted attempt to figure out where you are. You've left the old familiar neighborhood far behind you tonight, as you have almost every night. Each outing seems to take you a little further, to an area a little stranger and more dangerous.
  
  Tonight, you didn't even bother giving yourself an excuse. Before, it had been that you had somewhere to go, something to do. Not tonight. Some indeterminate time ago, you stumbled out of the house, stuck the key in the ignition, and just started driving.
  
  The sharp honk of a nearby car breaks your musings. You glance upward to see a pair of girls, jump ropes under their arms, pigtails flying behind them, run across the street, right in front of your car...
  
  Time slows as you slam down on your brakes. For a moment, you don't think you'll make it, but with a squeal of the tires, your old Dodge manages to grind to a halt in time. The girls make it across, laughing all the while, unaware of how close death has come.
  
  The old hunk of junk has served you pretty well in the past few years. You could probably afford something better, but why bother? It runs, it gets you to work and back. What more could you want? What more do you need?
  
  The buildings outside seem mostly tenements, their residents escaping the sweltering evening by sitting outside on the stone porches, the sidewalks. The girls continue on their way, and soon enter a tenement.
  
  With a sigh a relief, you step on the gas and continue on your way.
  
  > wait
  Time passes.
  
  As your mind begins to wander, your attention to the road slips. It's been so long since you've been able to just stop; to put all that's happened and all you've done behind. The scars that are left won't fade that easily.
  
  > Wait
  Time passes.
  
  You withdraw even further into yourself and soon lose all track of time and place. Wandering the ruin of your life and the wreckage of your past, you find yourself lost in more than one way.
  
  > Wait
  Time passes.
  
  "Now..."
  
  A whisper calls you back, breaking your reverie. Your eyes focus again, seeing through the window.
  
  "No..."
  
  It's all you can get out before the flash. Yet in that instant you see the scene with perfect clarity: the curb, far too close, the front wheels about to strike it. And there, a little further: the young woman falling. She's still looking downward, still unaware of her impending death.
  
  And then the flash, and time slows. The few seconds left before your death stretch, lengthen, and twist about on themselves. It seems you have a moment of reprieve ... but a single moment only.
  
  > wait
  Time passes.
  
  The car inches closer to the curb, striking it. You see the car dip, sparks flashing out onto the pavement, yet you feel nothing. You are detached, separated somehow. And still the girl sees nothing.
  
  > Wait
  Time passes.
  
  You rebound, sending the car into the air. Closer now, you see her slowly lifting her head, about to realize the flying mass of metal that will end her life. Beyond, on the curb, you can make out the figure you saw in the tableau, eyes ablaze and mouth agape, attempting to scramble to its feet.
  
  > wait
  Time passes.
  
  The car strikes the pavement with a resounding force, the tires squealing as they touch ground. Your headlights strike the girl full in the face, illuminating her in a blinding halo.
  
  > Wait
  Time passes.
  
  The car continues its lurch forward, carried by its momentum. Both your ends are a heartbeat away.
  
  > wait
  Time passes.
  
  It's too late. Tumbling out of control, the last thing you see is the car's headlights inches in front of the young woman's face...
  
  > Wait
  Fleeting glimpses of faces half-remembered in the gloom. Screams, the sound of squealing tires, a sudden thump, a sickening crunch and a violent jolt, followed by a sense of weightlessness and disassociation. The last thing you remember is an overwhelming feeling of guilt and regret, forcing its way through the chaos that surrounds you and then there is...
  
  A dark cliff overlooking an even darker landscape. Above, a full, sullen moon hangs, half-hidden by a mass of dark clouds; below, jagged rocks cover the bank of a black river which flows from a fount in the hillside. You know this place instinctively, the image of it frozen in some primal memory, hidden from view. You realize you've been here before ... in your nightmares.
  
  > examine the river
  It's too hard to make out the river from here...
  
  > examine cliff
  As you peer down the cliff-side, your heart begins to beat wildly. You've always had a fear of heights, and you've had this nightmare many times. You know there's no way to leave short of jumping ... yet you're terrified to.
  
  > jump
  Taking a deep breath and, closing your eyes, you attempt to overcome your panic. Slowly, you step to where you know the cliff edge lies. Standing straight, arms akimbo, you steady yourself and then hurl your body forward with all your might.
  
  For the briefest of moments, you feel like you're floating, flying, but then gravity asserts itself and you're tumbling out of control. You force your eyes open against the driving wind and see the dark landscape come rushing forward, the stones of the lake shore ready to catch you and break your bones.
  
  You scream incoherently as you're about to hit...
  
  ...when a sudden upward rush of air slows your fall and gently leaves you on the bank of the dark river.
  
  The moon is brighter here, lighting the scene with an eerie, surreal glow. From a fount in the hillside, a river of black, brackish liquid flows, forming the source of a river which flows out into the distance.
  
  > look at the river
  The black, oily liquid flows sluggishly downward from the fount in the cliff-side, spilling onto the ground and out into the distance.
  
  > Drink river
  As your thrust your hands under the fount and the waters flow over them, you are struck by how frigid it is. Then, in horror, you watch as the waters begin reaching outwards, climbing over your arms and making their way towards your face.
  
  You scream, attempting to wrest your way free, and as the foul material continues its progress, you realize that the invasion is mental as well as physical. You can feel the waters reaching deep into your mind, freeing the dark counterparts they find there: fear, guilt, hate and self-loathing.
  
  With a cry, you wrench yourself backwards, falling upon the soft river bank. But the waters do not give up so easily, and the psychic pull continues for a moment afterwards before releasing you. Left numb and empty, you resolve never to touch the foul stuff again.
  
  > look
  The moon is brighter here, lighting the scene with an eerie, surreal glow. From a fount in the hillside, a river of black, brackish liquid flows, forming the source of a river which flows out into the distance.
  
  > Go north
  You find yourself unable to leave this place.
  
  > Drink water
  You never want to touch that again for as long as you live.
  
  > examine the moon
  The moon seems closer here than it did on the cliff top. Somehow, you feel as if you could just reach out and touch it...
  
  > touch the moon
  Your hand tingles strangely as you pass it in front of your view of the moon...
  
  > get the moon
  Feeling foolish, you raise your hands, trying to catch the moon between them. You remember how, as a child, you used to think that if you stood tall enough, you could catch it like a ball and hold it in your arms. You strain further and further, reaching upwards ... and then you catch hold. Gently, unbelieving, you pull the orb down from the now-darkened skies.
  
  > examine the moon
  The silvery orb glows brightly in your hands, a small but perfect replica of the moon.
  
  > put the moon in the river
  As you approach the river with the sphere, you notice it shining even more brightly, even as the river begins to bubble and swirl. Gently, carefully, you toss the moon onto the river's surface. It floats serenely for a moment, then begins to sink into the mire. The waters roil and twist about it, trying to pull it downwards, and for a moment they appear to be succeeding. But then a shining beam of light flies upwards, fighting against the current and eddies and the orb makes its way to the surface again.
  
  As darkness and light continue their struggle, you notice streams of ichor flying upwards from the river, swirling over the surface. A hideous keening noise fills the air as these ghost shapes surround you, flowing upwards and out, screaming into the night. Before you, between you and the banks of the now violent flow, a swirling mass of darkness forms itself into a cloaked figure. Standing forth, it speaks:
  
  The wraith laughs coldly. "So, we meet again!"
  
  "Three times have me met, mortal, and three times have you fled! Know you the master of your Moira, know you the Spectre of your guilt!" The creature throws back its hidden head and laughs, the sound chilling your blood. Still laughing, it vanishes, and a Atropos of the Parcae stands before you.
  
  "The circle is now complete, Timothy. You have acted rightly, and the end of your journey along my Path draws near. Your Moira remains whole and intact, and your destiny within its boundaries firmly set. The crisis is past, disaster no longer looms near."
  
  She turns and looks towards the churning waters. As she does so, the orb's light fades, and the black waters rise. Sinking from sight, the now-dead moon vanishes, and the waters are quiet, still and dark.
  
  "Some places should stay hidden in darkness, Timothy," she whispers. "Illumination is not always a good thing."
  
  Atropos turns back to you. "The final step has been taken, Timothy. The Tapestry is finished, your Moira secure. The time has come to leave this place of indecision, mortal, and face whatever destiny lies before you. I wish you well."
  
  The whirling threads appear, and tear you from where you stand into their heaving embrace...
  
  Fleeting glimpses of faces half-remembered in the gloom. Screams, the sound of squealing tires, a sudden thump, a sickening crunch and a violent jolt, followed by a sense of weightlessness and disassociation. The last thing you remember is an overwhelming feeling of guilt and regret, forcing its way through the chaos that surrounds you and then there is...
  
  Your sight fails you. For that matter, you don't know if your eyes are opened or closed. Concepts like time and place have no meaning here. Your mind attempts to impose something, some order, some structure, upon the space in which you exist, and fails. There is only the void. For all you know, that is all there ever was.
  
  > get the photo
  You already have that.
  
  > go west
  Somehow, in this strange world of the past, Sarah still lives. She's lying, half asleep, in bed.
  
  Beside the bed is a small endtable.
  
  > get the bottle
  You open the medicine cabinet, revealing a small bottle of pills.
  
  Taken.
  
  > fill the glass
  Taken.
  
  Water begins flowing from the tap into the sink.
  
  You carefully fill the glass with water and then shut off the tap.
  
  > show the paper to Sarah
  You're about to tell Sarah about the experiment, but then think better of it. What's the point of depressing her? She'll never get in it.
  
  > give the pills to Sarah
  Sarah looks up at you and smiles.
  
  "Aww ... how sweet, my knight in shining armor come to take me to dreamland?" You help her up and she swallows the pills with a sip of water. She takes hold of your hand. You see her lower lip trembling slightly. "Thank you Timmy," she whispers, "for everything."
  
  She lies back down and closes her eyes, but she still has trouble falling asleep. God, you wish she could sleep forever, away from the sickness and the pain.
  
  > show the photo to Sarah
  "Oh Timmy. We had so much fun up there, didn't we? 'The Sweet Audrina.'" She laughs. God, we we almost drowned, didn't we?" You laugh with her for a moment, then you both fall silent. She takes your hand. "We had some pretty good times, didn't we? Tell me a story, Timmy." she says, "tell me about the lake.
  
  > tell Sarah about the lake
  You tell Sarah the story, embellishing what really happened. That always made her laugh, the way you used to exaggerate everything until it became bigger than life. She smiles, remembering.
  
  "Oh, we had so much fun, didn't we?" She yawns, then pats your hand. "I think I've had enough excitement for one day, I'm going to take a nap, ok?" You nod, and tuck her in as her breathing becomes slow and regular.
  
  > open the drawer
  Worry about the drawer later. You have more important things to do now.
  
  > open the drawer
  A cold gust of wind arises from nowhere and your hand is violently forced back from the endtable. The wind rises in intensity and a swirling smoke begins to rise from the ground. A dark writing cloud forms before you and from it a cloaked figure emerges. Its face lost in the swirling mists behind its hood, the figure speaks:
  
  The wraith laughs coldly. "So, we meet again!"
  
  "And again, you dare to defy me? I shall destroy you, fool!"
  
  "Admit defeat, Timothy! Admit that you never loved her!"
  
  > No
  "Liar! Admit that she never loved you!"
  
  > No
  "You dare to still say this be love after her murder?! How can you? Tell me of her, this one you murdered!"
  
  "Tell me of Sarah!"
  
  > tell Wraith about the lake
  "Tell me of Sarah!"
  
  > tell Wraith about Sarah
  Mortally afraid and shaking, you nonetheless face the Wraith. You tell it of Sarah's sickness, of her suffering. You explain that you wished to free her from all of it, that she herself found living impossible. You tell the Spectre that your act was one of love.
  
  "You LIE! You cannot prove you were even ONCE happy together!"
  
  > tell Wraith about the lake
  "Proof, fool! Your words are not enough!"
  
  "You LIE! You cannot prove you were even ONCE happy together!"
  
  > show the photo to Wraith
  The Wraith listens, a silent judge, as you tell him of your marriage. Of the happy times you had together, of the story of the lake, and how happy Sarah was then, and how happy she was when you shared it with her now.
  
  There is no response...
  
  As suddenly as it appeared, the Wraith vanishes,and in its place stands Clotho of the Parcae.
  
  "Well done, Timothy! Once again, you have faced your fears and been victorious!"
  
  Clotho turns from you and approaches the endtable. Silently, she opens the drawer within it, rather anticlimactically revealing a small, folded note. She retrieves it and hands it to you. You see that it bears your name written on the front in Sarah's hand.
  
  It reads:
  
  My Dearest Timothy,
  
  If you are reading this then either I have taken my own life, or
  you have helped me to. In either case, there are things I wish you to understand. Please do not think me selfish, my love, to do this. The pain we have both suffered is needless and my choice was to relieve us both of it. [9]If you have helped me to do this, then I know you have done so out of love. Do not let guilt get in the way of your knowing this, for I go to a better place, where I know someday you will join me. I will always love you, dearest, as I know you love me.
  
  Yours always,
  Sarah
  
  You stand there, silent for a moment. You don't remember ever reading this note. Maybe your facing the Wraith changed something.
  
  Clotho nods, as if reading your thoughts. "Yes, Timothy. While you have followed your choices for the most part, your Moira has, in fact, been changed. Your confrontation with your guilt has allowed you to see the truth. To see that Sarah was in pain and she wanted you to do this."
  
  "And so, you have taken the second path along your altered Moira. The threads of your Destiny are changing Timothy ... do not falter now. Be brave, for the final step you do not take alone."
  
  The whirling threads appear, and tear you from where you stand into their heaving embrace. They leave you, gasping, back in the Tower...
  
  > Wait
  Time passes.
  
  The further you go, the more convinced you're only getting yourself more lost. If anything, the neighborhoods are getting worse. The homeless are more and visible, and the buildings are more decrepit.
  
  > wait
  Time passes.
  
  As your mind begins to wander, your attention to the road slips. It's been so long since you've been able to just stop; to put all that's happened and all you've done behind. The scars that are left won't fade that easily.
  
  > Wait
  Time passes.
  
  You withdraw even further into yourself and soon lose all track of time and place. Wandering the ruin of your life and the wreckage of your past, you find yourself lost in more than one way.
  
  > Turn wheel
  Morningstar's laughter echoes about you.
  
  "I am afraid not, my friend. You were foolish enough not to take my offer and that is one choice you must live with."
  
  You rebound, sending the car into the air. Closer now, you see her slowly lifting her head, about to realize the flying mass of metal that will end her life. Beyond, on the curb, you can make out the figure you saw in the tableau, eyes ablaze and mouth agape, attempting to scramble to its feet.
  
  > Pray
  Fleeting glimpses of faces half-remembered in the gloom. Screams, the sound of squealing tires, a sudden thump, a sickening crunch and a violent jolt, followed by a sense of weightlessness and disassociation. The last thing you remember is an overwhelming feeling of guilt and regret, forcing its way through the chaos that surrounds you and then there is...
  
  A dark cliff overlooking an even darker landscape. Above, a full, sullen moon hangs, half-hidden by a mass of dark clouds; below, jagged rocks cover the bank of a black river which flows from a fount in the hillside. You know this place instinctively, the image of it frozen in some primal memory, hidden from view. You realize you've been here before ... in your nightmares.
  
  > jump
  Taking a deep breath and, closing your eyes, you attempt to overcome your panic. Slowly, you step to where you know the cliff edge lies. Standing straight, arms akimbo, you steady yourself and then hurl your body forward with all your might.
  
  For the briefest of moments, you feel like you're floating, flying, but then gravity asserts itself and you're tumbling out of control. You force your eyes open against the driving wind and see the dark landscape come rushing forward, the stones of the lake shore ready to catch you and break your bones.
  
  You scream incoherently as you're about to hit...
  
  ...when a sudden upward rush of air slows your fall and gently leaves you on the bank of the dark river.
  
  The moon is brighter here, lighting the scene with an eerie, surreal glow. From a fount in the hillside, a river of black, brackish liquid flows, forming the source of a river which flows out into the distance.
  
  > look at the river
  The black, oily liquid flows sluggishly downward from the fount in the cliff-side, spilling onto the ground and out into the distance.
  
  > put the moon in the river
  As you approach the river with the sphere, you notice it shining even more brightly, even as the river begins to bubble and swirl. Gently, carefully, you toss the moon onto the river's surface. It floats serenely for a moment, then begins to sink into the mire. The waters roil and twist about it, trying to pull it downwards, and for a moment they appear to be succeeding. But then a shining beam of light flies upwards, fighting against the current and eddies and the orb makes its way to the surface again.
  
  As darkness and light continue their struggle, you notice streams of ichor flying upwards from the river, swirling over the surface. A hideous keening noise fills the air as these ghost shapes surround you, flowing upwards and out, screaming into the night. Before you, between you and the banks of the now violent flow, a swirling mass of darkness forms itself into a cloaked figure. Standing forth, it speaks:
  
  The wraith laughs coldly. "So, we meet again!"
  
  "And it shall be for the FINAL time! You shall not escape me so easily!"
  
  "MURDERER! So you kill again! Slaughtering an innocent in cold blood!"
  
  > tell Wraith about the accident
  "MURDERER! So you kill again! Slaughtering an innocent in cold blood!"
  
  > No
  "How say you so?! Not murder?!"
  
  "How do you explain away your action?!"
  
  > tell Wraith about car
  "An accident? HA! You killed that poor child in your haste to flee! You butchered in your panicked flight from the guilt of your evil!"
  
  "You are a fool and a coward!"
  
  > tell Wraith about the figure
  "You are a fool and a coward!"
  
  > No
  "Liar! What bravery have you shown?!"
  
  "What adversary have YOU stood against!?"
  
  > tell Wraith about Wraith
  The wraith stands silent as you shout that you have have bravery enough to stand against it and the fear and guilt you have felt. Then, as suddenly as it appeared, the Wraith vanishes, and in its place stands Clotho of the Parcae.
  
  "You have done it!" she cries, her face and eyes bright with tears. "Oh Timothy, you have defeated the Wraith, the guilt and darkness within yourself, the embodiment of all you feared ... "
  
  She turns and faces the battling forces behind her. As you both watch, the glow from the orb slowly begins to increase in intensity, flooding the buckling waters with shafts of brilliant light. Wailing in pain and defeat, the blackness begins to subside, and the river begin to brighten. In moments, there is nothing left of the foul substance, and the waters flowing outward from the font are crystal-clear.
  
  Approaching the edge of the bank, Clotho reaches out and grasps the orb in both hands. With a sly smile, she places it in her robes, where it vanishes between the folds.
  
  "Come Timothy," she says as she motions you towards the fount. "Come drink..."
  
  The water is cold as it passes your lips and after drinking deeply, you find the water quenching a deep thirst you never knew you had. As you continue, gulping draught after draught, you find your mind opening, the light of the illuminating water brightening some hidden darkness deep within you. As you stand and turn back to Clotho, you reach an epiphany: that the guilt you felt for the accident was unwarranted. Certainly, you should have paid more attention, but that would not have saved the girl. Attention or not, her sudden appearance in the middle of the road is what caught you by surprise.
  
  Clotho nods. "Yes Timothy, the light you have drawn down from the skies has illuminated the the secrets you have kept from yourself. Well done."
  
  "The final step has been taken, Timothy. The Tapestry is finished, your Moira secure. The fear and guilt of your past you have faced bravely, and perhaps this fate you have woven for yourself is better then the one We originally wove for you. The time has come to leave this place of indecision, mortal, and face whatever destiny lies before you. I wish you well."
  
  The whirling threads appear, and tear you from where you stand into their heaving embrace...
  
  Fleeting glimpses of faces half-remembered in the gloom. Screams, the sound of squealing tires, a sudden thump, a sickening crunch and a violent jolt, followed by a sense of weightlessness and disassociation. The last thing you remember is an overwhelming feeling of guilt and regret, forcing its way through the chaos that surrounds you and then there is...
  
  Your sight fails you. For that matter, you don't know if your eyes are opened or closed. Concepts like time and place have no meaning here. Your mind attempts to impose something, some order, some structure, upon the space in which you exist, and fails. There is only the void. For all you know, that is all there ever was.