Renere, 'to unspin, to undo, unravel what had been spun'

by Lise

the Beginning

*

I can't tell them what I've known all along.

I think it would kill whatever hope they have left-- at least, I'm afraid it would. If these survivors knew that history had been documented from the very beginning...

Chaos, the end of the world, had been staring at me for over two years. For some reason, Irene had chosen me -- no, fate chose me. Someone with little power and no earth-changing influence to be the one to hear the news before it would happen. But then, maybe that's why I was the one that needed to know this before it happened. Someone that didn't have the power, couldn't do anything but pick up little pieces.

Except, I didn't really know.

I just take what Irene said, what her mind saw, and apply it to what is happening now. 20/20 hindsight; compensation for the vision she lost.

So much has happened, that I barely remember how I ended up 'the one'. The easy way out is to say, I've always been the one that was meant to be in the know, and leave it at that. But events really did transpire, like clockwork, or pieces to a vast, cosmic puzzle, to make it so-- and somehow, Irene's nightmares were mine.

I ended up with her predictions, and that's how it is.

Something I should have found that first night, in Mystique's apartment-- maybe it would have kept the fear in me for the coming months. A lot of things referenced the X-men, in the end, none of it good news, but this summed it up. '...And the dark master will find his way, ghost-cat and tin man and pretty maids all in a blank row': last page of volume seven.

I wish I'd read the last page first.

That's why I left Rogue the note, because if anything happened to me, I had to make sure that what Irene saw didn't die too. It was just a precaution; I figured I'd have time.

Isn't that how it always goes, when you don't know what's coming.

It's a frightening thought, power. Irene understood it; she gave me the warning, 'Power comes to those that hear it.' Page twenty, book three.

No one heard her tunes.

She warned me about my friends and family, that they would bring the destruction we feared. I was the gatekeeper and I was the mouth of the seer, and I was the believer. I believed in Irene. She had things for my ears, and my ears only.

Shadowcat, these things will come to pass.

This is what Irene wrote to me, page two, volume seven. I found it that first night, in Mystique's apartment, before the first time the Twelve were gathered. It made me a believer, even though I couldn't see what my faith was in. Months later, Mystique told me she'd penned that phrase years after she'd written the diaries themselves. Mystique and I, we were the only two to know the secrets that Irene recorded. We were chosen to be the shepherds of the new order.

Mystique's madness made her irrational, unpredicable... we all knew this. How the mighty can fall, without that which is dearest to them. Poor Raven.

I wonder, did Raven ever hate Irene as much as I do, now?

I suppose not. Raven was deeply in love, and we can forgive the tresspasses of our lovers. I can't forgive Irene. Haven't ever seen her, but can't forgive.

Of course, sitting in this place, waiting for Domino to find us again, makes it easier to hate someone long dead. Easier still are the drawn faces, the dirty children, and the skipping games they play. It's easier to hate someone when they made little children sing about bones... like the Black Plague.

Except, Irene didn't make this. She only knew.

Just like, I only knew.

These things will come to pass. Destiny, thy fate is mine. She had all the secrets.

I found them first.

And even then, with eleven volumes of prophesy, it wasn't enough to do anything about it. That was Destiny's fault though. She hid the last two from me, and so no matter what I did or said, no matter what the end game turned out to be, I didn't have the option. She gave me sight to the brink of checkmate, and then slid the veil back in place, no way to stop the death and destruction.

Mystique told me once, "People die, Pryde."

She was right. People did die.

Yes, I hate Irene for making me Cassandra, once she lost her sight. And what's worse, a Cassandra that didn't even understand until it's too late.

The first shift I witnessed, I knew.

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