Remember the Children

Sailing the time winds through the fractures of the Time War is hard. Compassion gifted me her wisest daughter. I sing and let Hope steer.

"I've had to tweak things a little," she says. Unlike the time lords she isn't afraid of Paradox. It is her play thing.

I step out into a dry desert. There is a warrior here, well-trained, with deep blue eyes. Not so pretty as my Andred, dying a hundred times in the first assault, but close.

"He will care for your child," Hope says.

I look into his eyes and I know that he will.