Iacta Alea Est

[Chartis]

Upon first site of the scenic grounds, with the worn gravel pathways cutting through an emerald lawn and the sun just starting to bend around the West buttresses like a burning tarpaulin, Clarity Cleine felt her breath leave her. Children, laughing and playfully shoving one another, were spread out across the grounds--a game of basketball was in progress on one of the courts--enjoying the warm late afternoon, content to set their homework aside for a few precious hours of diversion. A light breeze carrying the sound of their shouts ruffled the silver birch trees nearest the gate, and the woman made a noise; it was half-laugh, half-cry but almost certainly joyful.

What had she expected? Cullen's Institute for the Gifted had faded in her memories, after years of absence, and perhaps it was the fact that the opposite was true in reality that had caught her so off guard. Just as it had when she had been a student, the school stood bright and stately, appearing even from this distance to welcome those lost and frightened souls that walked through it's gates. Clarity felt a prickling behind her eyes as her thoughts drifted back to the man who'd started it all and made it possible; the late, good doctor would have been so very proud to behold his ongoing legacy.

There was a new guard at the gates, and Clarity wondered briefly as she greeted him what had become of Bellerophon, who'd been so dedicated to his post when she was a student. Similar remembrances floated about her as she slowly ambled up the walk; a particularly delighted grin forming as she reached the steps and saw, etched very faintly in the pavement, her loopy initials bunched against a few other signatures. She stooped to run her fingers over the stamp, tactile proof that she was, in fact, returned home.

Clarity let herself in very quietly, an air of comfortable reverence surrounding her lithe, Lilliputian frame. Looking around at the warm interior, the woman couldn't help but wonder why it was that she'd waited so long to come back. Along one wall hung captures of Cullen's alumni--many of them now teachers--and she winced as she caught sight of herself in full grunge attire, grinning despite the stiff posturing of the picture.

"Hi; are you a new teacher?" The voice broke Clarity's study of the graduated class photographs that hung on the wall. She turned to see a smiling girl, hovering some inches above the floor, with an eagerly curious expression directed at her. Clarity shook her head.

"No." She replied; she turned to look over her shoulder and pointed at the frame with a gold plate that read 'Class of 1993' affixed to the bottom. "I used to attend here. This is my first real time back in a few years."

The girl floated over until she was nose-to-glass with the photograph. There was more than one familiar face in the row of mutants. She giggled. "Awesome! So you were, like, an original, huh?"

An original? What an odd way of thinking about it; but it was true. "Yes, I suppose I was. How long have you been here?"

"This is my third year. I graduate in, like, a couple of months." The girl shrugged happily. "So you went to school with a lot of the professors; are you here to visit them?"

Clarity nodded, the brightness in her own green eyes dulling by a fraction. "Mmm. Actually--I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name..."

"Hannah."

"Hannah," With a nod the woman continued. "You must know John Rhee. Is his office nearby?"

Hannah, visibly pleased to be able to provide some assistance, nodded and motioned for Clarity to follow her. They took a left and went down the corridor; this time Clarity did not pause to muse on the familiar architecture or the memorabilia that hung along the way. She concentrated very strongly on her feet, and their moving forward.

After what seemed like a very brief walk, Hannah stopped; Clarity had to step to the side to avoid bumping into her. "Oh, the door's open, that means he might not be in." The girl poked her head in and emerged, nodding. "Yup. Gone. He's probably, like, teaching a class or something. Do you want me to check the teachers lounge for you?" She raised her eyebrows in kindly inquiry. Clarity shook her head.

"No, that's fine, thank-you. I'll just wait here for him."

"Are you sure? It's really no problem, I don't have anything going on..."

Clarity shook her head. "Thank-you, Hannah, but it's not neccessary. I really would prefer just to wait."

"Okay! Well, it was nice to meet you!" Hannah chirped as she floated back down the hall, waving. "Maybe I'll, like, see you around sometime--don't be a stranger!"

She watched until the mutant teenager propelled herself out of sight, standing by the open door with hesitant certainty. The entrance to John Rhee's office was no different from any other room, but it seemed much harder to walk through. Clarity stood frozen, absurdly nervous that someone would come and find her like this, demand to know what she was doing. Maybe it would be easier if she just 'ported in...

Don't be ridiculous.

Taking a deep breath she strode in, and stopped just as suddenly as it exhaled out of her in woozy, slow circles. The office--with it's Asian motif and orderly air--belonged so patently to John that it didn't matter that he wasn't physically in the room; his presence was there, overwhelmingly so. Clarity felt like she was walking through water as she crossed the threshold, ignoring the cup of still-steaming tea that was on the desk, the open volume that rested on the arm of the chair behind it, and took a position by the window, where she was free to look outside and watch the basketball game she'd noticed earlier. It was better than poking around like a common thief, stealing glimpses into his life by way of his possesions. Clarity's breathing had settled into a measured, irregular pattern; why was this so hard?

Before her mind could come up with a suitable answer to the rhetoric, Clarity's ears picked up on the distinct sound of incoming footsteps. It could have been anyone--another faculty member with a question, a student coming for an appointment; it wasn't, though. The mutant woman knew that much.

She gripped the sill of the window, watching as the orange ball was tossed up into a perfect spiraling arch. It spun effortlessly to the hoop where it hit the rim, balancing on the edge, resting for the space of a second before it fell--

Clarity turned away before the ball made it's choice, at the exact same moment that a once-known figure walked in through the door. She cleared her throat with some difficulty. "... Hello John."

[Dragon]

John stared, open-mouthed, with an expression of neutral shock that looked as though it could turn in any number of volatile directions.

"Clarity..."

He stepped inside and softly closed the door behind him. The stack of freshly minted copies in his arm went down on a chair by the door, but he never took his eyes off the woman. His face seemed to ask the question he wasn't ready to yet.

"You're back."

[Chartis]

"I'm back." She reaffirmed, nodding in case it wasn't already obvious enough. An awkward silence fell between them. Clarity shifted, bringing her arms up to cross over her stomach.

She studied John's face--lined more than when she'd last seen him, yet not old. He would never be old. "You look--uh, how are you?"

[Dragon]

John closed the distance by a few steps, but he stopped at his desk and reached for his cup of tea.

"I've been well," he said. "It's been very busy."

He knew he wouldn't have to clarify, considering recent events, that he meant business with the X-Men just as much as with the school, but all that was really incidental.

"And you? Have you been..." He smiled unhappily at the oncoming euphemism. "...busy?"

[Chartis]

A wry chuckle escaped her and Clarity nodded, ignoring the implication in the query. "You could say that."

She was tempted to stop there, but that would have been cruel and it was a trait she did not rely on if she could help it. "I was living in the Caymans, helping establish a mutant awareness program in the school system there."

'And much more,' Clarity thought, leaning against the windowframe again. A frown filled her face. "It's going well. People are much more accepting there."

[Dragon]

"That's good. I'd love to hear about it."

It was true, but it wasn't what was most true. He was troubled by the look on his face - by a lot of things, honestly.

"I know you've visited once or twice since you left," he said. "I'm sorry I missed you before."

[Chartis]

"They were very brief, I never really came to visit." Clarity shrugged. The truth was that she'd made sure her trips coincided with Rhee's own absences from the school. Of course he would have heard of her stays upon his return but by then she was always long gone.

"Listen John," Clarity said, rubbing circles on her elbow with her thumb, "I came to talk to you about something."

[Dragon]

She more or less confirmed his suspicions that she'd been avoiding him - which could only mean this meeting really was exceptional. "Dropping by" really had a different meaning for someone who could will herself to any point on the globe at a moment's notice.

"Ah... should we..." John gestured toward the seating around the coffee table, then realized he was still holding his cup and set it back on the edge of the desk.

[Chartis]

Clarity nodded, grateful for the chance to sit down; after all, this wasn't the sort of conversation one had while standing.

Her feet didn't reach the floor once she was in the chair, so she slipped out of her shoes and neatly tucked her legs under her. Now that they were actually face-to-face, Clarity found herself wholly unprepared to forge ahead. All the hours spent rehearsing seemed inadequate; minutes passed and still she had yet to do anything more than shift uncomfortably against the seat cushions.

"Sorry, it's been a long time." Clarity apologized, tucked her loose hair behind her ears. "So... we never really talked about what happened between us. In Korea."

As if she needed to clarify what she was referring to.

"We never really talked about anything, once we got back."

[Dragon]

John made no attempt to rush her. In fact, he seemed to relax a great deal once they were seated. It wasn't too difficult to imagine her as one of his students trying to broach a difficult subject in a counseling session. She was the same as he remembered - even though she was a year older than him, it had always felt as though she were younger, more carefree, more uncertain.

Even now, it made him want to reach out and comfort her, protect her. From what he couldn't begin to guess.

"No, we didn't. And I regret that. But before I felt ready, you were gone."

[Chartis]

That twinged a bit--he hadn't accused her of anything, exactly, but Clarity bit her lip as a twist of regret got tangled in her throat. Leaving had been rash, yes, but under the circumstances it had seemed like the best decision; the teleporter tried to take comfort from that.

"I didn't really have a choice, John." Clarity shook her head. "Things were much more complicated than you realize.

"That night... when we," A frustrated sigh and she pressed her fingertips to her eyelids. "John, what happened didn't end there, that night. You could say that it's never ended."

Could you be any vaguer?

[Dragon]

John's eyebrows pinched together. He had a vague sense of some great weight teetering above them and about to drop.

"I don't understand."

[Chartis]

"When," Clarity began slowly, "When I left, it wasn't just because of the way things were between us. That was part of it but..."

Her mouth went dry and Clarity tasted the metallic tang of dread swell under her tongue. She couldn't say it.

With steady hands she reached into her back pocket, where she'd tucked a creased envelope in case she lost her nerve. Opening the flap, she withdrew a small square of heavy paper; she looked at it silently before laying it down.

"His name is Ridley," Clarity said, eyes trained on the photograph. "Ridley Gregory Rhee."

[Dragon]

John's eyes were gravitationally drawn to the photograph, but he didn't have the strength to reach for it. He took a deep breath. And another. And then another.

Outside, he could hear the voices of children still at play on the basketball courts. He could hear Clarity's thin, shallow breath, which she was trying to keep silent, and the gentle ticking of the antique clock on the wall.

Slowly, he leaned forward and took the picture in his hand. It was plain to see the mix of Asian and European features in the boy's smiling face, full of color and life and the vigor of youth.

John felt a prickling behind his eyes, and he blinked, then rubbed them.

"Why--" he started, but his voice caught, and he had to clear his throat. "Why didn't you tell me?"

[Chartis]

She didn't know what to say. Not in the face of his obvious struggle, not while he grappled to understand the all of this biological surprise. Clarity could only hazard a guess at how utterly overwhelmed John must have felt; she'd had eight years to adjust, and it could still stop her cold.

"I tried." She was almost, almost whispering. "I meant too. But John, you practically dove through a window to avoid me whenever I came into a room. The last thing I thought you wanted-needed--to hear was that I was pregnant. It would have just been another burden for you to carry."

"After he was born," Clarity cupped her hands around her mouth and shook her head. " I don't know; it got easier and easier to stay away, the older he got. I didn't know what else to do."

There were a whole lot of words, but not much substance to them. Her hands knotted together. "I'm so sorry."

[Dragon]

There was an impulse to protest his innocence - to argue that he'd thought he was protecting her honor and sensibilities, but he quelled it immediately. Eight years ago, the argument made sense. Now it sounded petty and childish.

Besides, he could imagine what it must've been like for her... when it seemed the person whose support she needed the most was isolating himself from her. He wished he could make her understand that even in his darkest thoughts, he'd never blamed her for what had happened that night.

But perhaps it was injury enough that he had ever thought of it as a matter of blame.

"When you left," he said, "I thought you were ashamed of me. That you wanted nothing more to do with me. Or I would have tried to contact you."

With a monumental effort, he lifted his eyes to meet hers.

"I should never have pushed you out. I'm sorry. It wasn't just about that night. It was about all the things I discovered in myself, all the things you had to see. I thought I was sparing you. I was wrong."

[Chartis]

The idea that she could have ever been ashamed of him was so viscerally wrong that Clarity found herself shaking her head. How could he ever have thought that after what had happened--what had been done to him--she would be capable of anything but caring more?

And then Clarity remembered that this was John, and he had always seen his abilities as something to shoulder privately. Besides, hadn't she thought the very same thing? That her disappearing would somehow relieve him of his discomfort?

"All I ever saw that night," Clarity held John's gaze, leaning forward slightly, "Was someone that I cared about. For better or for worse. I should have told you that. If nothing else, I should have told you that."

The woman reached for a tissue from the box on the coffee table, and dabbed at her eyes before any tears could spill over. A long, tremulous sigh wavered forth. "We both did what we thought was right, and we were both wrong. I never should have left without telling you; regardless of how you felt about me it was your choice to make about how involved you wanted to be with our child, not mine."

They could go on forever about who had done what and the degree of their incorrectness, but there were more immediate issues. Clarity was tearing the tissue into little pieces on her lap. "It's your choice now."

[Dragon]

John covered his mouth as he studied the cherubic face in the photograph. The feelings pressing in on him were so alien and so powerful he didn't have a name for them.

"I don't want to rush into any judgments," he said. "I wouldn't want to force myself on an otherwise healthy relationship, but..."

He pulled his hand away from his face and allowed himself a smile.

"Ridley Gregory Rhee?"

[Chartis]

"Catchy, isn't it?" She mirrored his smile, a sudden pride shining from her sparkling eyes. "He knows about you. Small things--your name, that you're a mutant, stories of you at Cullen's."

The edges of her mouth twitched. "He's currently convinced that you're a secret agent."

[Dragon]

"Oh, dear..."

He shook his head and laughed - what else was there to do?

"I hope I don't disappoint him. I would like to meet him, Clarity. I'm sure we'll be able to find some time, with summer coming up..."

John stopped himself, realizing he was skipping too far ahead. There were still questions to be answered.

"There must have been some reason you chose now to tell me," he said carefully. "Has he... has he manifested a mutation?"

[Chartis]

"No, not yet." Clarity was quick to shake her head. "Much to his chagrin, I might add.

"But he's getting older and when he does--" There wasn't a question of whether or not Ridley would--"He should be here."

She motioned with a hand at the room, though it was clear that the rest of the building was included in the wave. "This was the only place I ever felt wholly safe and normal. He'll need that when his abilities start to emerge."

[Dragon]

John tensed slightly. Somehow, he hadn't pictured Clarity bringing Ridley to Cullen's. He wasn't sure what he'd imagined - maybe taking extra personal time in the summer for a crash course in family life, returning to Ridley and Clarity whenever he could during the school year.

But immediately he saw how small and incomplete that picture was. Cullen's was his home, and Clarity and her son - his son - deserved to be a part of it.

Nothing would be the same anymore, that was certain.

So he nodded. "Yes. Yes, he should be here." And then he met Clarity's eyes again. "Does that mean you'll be here, too?"

[Chartis]

After a beat, Clarity nodded. "Yes. I've talked to Ethan about it and I'd like to come back. Back back--to the school, I mean."

It occured to her that maybe it was too much too fast. Learning you had a child and easing into the role of parent was one thing; living under the same roof, almost instantly, was a different beast altogether. John wouldn't be given much time to get used to the idea of being a father, much less being one.

"Unless... if you aren't comfortable..."

[Dragon]

John was quick to shake his head. "I don't have the right to dictate where you live or work. If it's what you want..."

[Chartis]

It was, but Clarity also didn't want to disturb things any more than she had.

"We'll play it by ear--stay here on a trial basis. It might turn out to be easier for us to get a place nearby; it isn't like commuting would be an issue."

[Dragon]

"Whatever you decide, do what's best for you and Ridley," John said. And then, immediately, he reconsidered.

"Except it's not just you and Ridley anymore. Is it?"

He took a breath, then stood and moved to the love seat catacorner to Clarity's chair. It was the closest he'd been to her in almost nine years now - he could smell her perfume, which catapulted him back in time. This was not going to be easy.

He spoke slowly, deliberatively. "I don't want to risk forcing anything between us, even if it's for Ridley's sake. But we are connected, not in a way that either of us could have planned for. I think we're going to need to take things slowly. Try to get to know one another all over again. And, meanwhile, I hope that you'll be able to help me get to know my son."

[Chartis]

"... Of course I will." Clarity didn't know what else to say. She was almost giddy with relief. Out of all the scenarios she had envisioned, this outcome hadn't factored in. For Ridley's sake, she was enormously thankful.

There was the matter of how things would lie between her and John, of course, but she pushed it to the back of her mind, unwilling to delve into that particular issue just then. There would be time enough to navigate those waters later--slowly, just like he'd said.

Clarity relaxed slightly. "He's a wonderful boy, John." She said. "Clever and funny--I have a hard time keeping up with him sometimes."

She laughed quietly, and then her face changed to an expression of gentle timidness. "Thank you. For taking this so well--it must be an overwhelming shock."

[Dragon]

John almost laughed. "I'm not sure I've even begun to be overwhelmed by it."

He picked up the picture again and lost himself in it.

"Tell me more about him. How far is he in school? What are his interests? Does he play any sports, does he like to read... I have a million questions."

[Chartis]

"He's in third year, he's obsessed with dinosaurs and things that explode and music--he never goes anywhere without his iPod; you'll sooner get him to eat broccoli than read anything, it's a nightly struggle to sit him down for twenty minutes with a book." Clarity shook her head fondly.

"He doesn't like math or language arts but he loves science and he'll spend hours outside, exploring. The last I checked he wanted to be a paleontologist and a shark tamer, with a possible sideline in rock stardom." One eyebrow arched in obvious amusement.

Clarity pursed her lips in thought. Like any mother she could go on for hours, and she didn't want to sound like she was droning. "He thinks about things, I can see you in him there, and he's got an answer for everything. But he's kind and generous and full of fun."

[Dragon]

John hung on every word - even though he knew it was a portrait as seen through a mother's adoring eyes, he wanted to absorb every bit of it.

And even as he listened, the enormity of the situation grew. And he knew there was something else he needed to ask, however delicate it might be.

"What have you told him about us?"

[Chartis]

"What he needed to know. That we knew each other once and cared enough to make him. Most of the children in his class come from broken homes, so he's never felt singled out." Clarity shrugged. "So far it's been enough to satisfy him.

"Although now... we might want to come to some sort of agreement about what we say, if he wants something more."

[Dragon]

John bowed his head, sinking deep into thought.

"We should tell him the truth," he said. "As much as he's able to understand."

[Chartis]

Clarity's brow creased as her features turned downward into a frown, but she nodded. "Ridley deserves that much, yes."

Of course it was easier in theory than in practice. She knew all too well how quickly a well-thought out explanation could turn into a stuttering, hobbled mess in the face of an interrogating child.

"It shouldn't come up right away, if we're lucky, not with the excitement of meeting you to eclipse it. Speaking of which," A questioning glance found it's way to John, "How do you want to go about that?"

[Dragon]

John rubbed his face wearily. "I honestly have no idea. I'm having difficult thinking even that far ahead right now."

Something she'd said earlier haunted him - most of the children were from broken homes. Was that what Ridley thought of his own home? What could he possibly think of a father who, without explanation, had been absent his whole life?

"Are you certain he wants to meet me? If all he knows is that I was never there for him..."

[Chartis]

"Ridley wants to meet you." Clarity quickly interjected. "That's all I've heard since we arrived. 'When am I going to meet my dad? Do I get to meet my dad today? Where does my dad live?' He was ready to hail a cab himself when he found out you were here, teaching."

She rested her hands in her lap, steepling the tips of her fingers together. "Hm. What if I brought him here? He can take a look around--he'll have to get familiar with the layout anyway, if we're to stay."

[Dragon]

John breathed a sigh of relief - relief mixed with consternation, he realized, which was only one of the paradoxes he knew he'd be wrestling with in the near future.

"That makes sense," he said. Showing Ridley around the campus would help to give some sort of structure to what could be a very disarming experience. That left the question of... "When?"

[Chartis]

That required a little thought. There were both Rhee men and their readiness to consider. She wanted a few days for her son to get used to the idea of coming to Cullen's--to unleash a fully wound up eight year old on the collective residents was just plain mean.

John no doubt had classes and appointments to consider, too. "What's your schedule like on Saturday?" Clarity asked.

[Dragon]

John's sharp intake of breath communicated more than he really meant to.

"You've already brought him to New York?"

He'd imagined Ridley was still in the Caymans while his mother blinked in for a visit.

[Chartis]

Clarity watched him cautiously, nodding. "Yes; he's with Ethan, at our hotel."

[Dragon]

John had assumed Clarity was giving him more lead time - he could feel a minor panic creeping up on him as he shifted his mental calendar from weeks to days.

"Well... Saturday is probably just as good as any day. I'm not completely free, but that'll give you some time to explore on your own, too."

[Chartis]

She almost recanted the suggestion, watching him tense. Clarity knew she had a habit of plunging headlong into things (often wrecklessly, when it came down to it) and the woman had no intentions of dragging John with her.

But then Ridley's eager face flashed before her, and the thought was quenched. "Okay. I'll send word to you when we're here; you can find us when you're ready."

[Dragon]

John nodded. "All right. Ah..."

He swallowed and forced his sluggish mind to work practically.

"I think I ought to write a letter to let the rest of the faculty know. It's better that they find out up-front. Unless... well, there isn't anyone else who knows, is there? Except Ethan?"

[Chartis]

Clarity shook her head and confirmed, "No, nobody else knows."

She could already envision the drafts that would be read and then deleted, deemed unfit to send before John would finally be satisfied with the letter--if he ever would be.

Very aware that they were approaching an end to their conversation, Clarity shuffled to the edge of her seat, picking up the shards of tissue that littered her lap. There was a small rubbish can next to the desk, and she discarded them neatly before turning her attention back to John.

With nothing to occupy her hands, Clarity found herself picking at her nails self-consciously. Were they supposed to shake hands? What was the proper form in this situation?

"Um. Oh!" Remembering, Clarity turned around and snatched a pen from the holder on the desk and a sticky note from the pad beside it. She wrote furiously, then whipped around and handed the neon yellow Post It to John. "This is the number of the hotel, and our room extension. If you need to get a hold of me before Saturday."

[Dragon]

John stood when she did - a decorous reflex, he realized, something not really befitting someone who'd once been closer than a friend. Familiarity had given way to formality. He wasn't sure whether the pendulum could swing the other way again.

But he took the sticky note with a smile. "Thank you. I can send the letter to you, too... or let you preview it. If you'd prefer."

He was a perfect mirror to Clarity's uncertainty.

[Chartis]

"I'm sure whatever you write will be fine." Clarity said. "After all, you know everyone here much better."

A moment of silence followed awkwardly, and then the woman seemed to start. She smiled and began stepping backwards.

"I'd better go relieve Ethan. We'll uh, ow--" Clarity winced as her hip smacked into the edge of the desk. One hand went down to rub the spot and a flush spread across her cheeks, vivid against the pale cream of her skin. "We'll be here on Saturday. I'll... look forward to reading your letter."

She was only a few paces from the door--even teleporting had it's etiquette, and vanishing from the room after a such a conversation would definitely be a faux pas. The hallway would suffice. Besides, she was finding it hard to concentrate in John's office; the last thing she wanted was to 'port to some unintended location.

Clarity stopped once she was at the doorframe. Her eyes stared hard at John for one impossibly long second, and then softened. "See you then."

[Dragon]

John considered walking her to the door until he remembered she didn't need doors. "See you," he said.

The door closed behind her, and he turned back toward his desk only to see Ridley's picture still on the coffee table. "Oh, wait--"

But he heard, faintly, the rush of air filling the void where she'd been standing.

John scooped up the photograph and carried it to his desk, studying it intently as if to etch every detail of the boy's face into his mind. It was staggering to imagine that he had helped to create the little boy behind the photograph; even more staggering that this boy already had a life and friendships and passions and dreams that John was entirely unaware of.

If circumstances were different, if Ridley were someone else's child, and Clarity had come to him to ask him to be like a father to the boy, as a personal favor for the sake of old times, John thought he would still have
jumped at the chance. But he wasn't a surrogate. He was the thing itself. And the weight of that responsibility was breathtaking.

He carefully tucked the photograph into a folder on his desk where it would be safe from the clutter of paperwork. And then he lost himself in his daily duties - grading papers, filling reports, composing new lesson plans for his mutation development classes. He'd always found paperwork to be dull and grinding, a necessary but unwanted appendage to the privilege of teaching such gifted children, but now it was a welcome escape from the company of his own thoughts.

It was six-thirty when he finished, his customary time for dinner, but he found he wasn't terribly hungry. He reached into a side drawer of his desk and pulled out a granola bar.

Once he'd finished, he turned back to his computer and began to write.

It was almost ten before he felt confident enough to hit "send."

[Dragon]

To: edaniels, mflannery, dmclaverty, hbertrand, nfederov, aflorence, jparker, bmclanahan...
From: jrhee@cullens.edu
Subject: News of a Personal Nature

>Encrypted Level X
>Encryptkey accepted


My dear friends,

As colleagues and comrades, we have always shared a great deal with one another as a matter of cooperation and trust. It is natural that we also keep our personal matters within smaller circles, as long as they do not interfere with our duties to the school or to the X-Men. I am writing to you concerning an affair that I had once thought best to keep private, but in light of recent developments, I feel you all have a right to know more.

Those of you who were here in the summer of 2000 will remember Clarity Cleine, a former student who stayed with the Institute both as a teacher and a valuable member of the X-Men. You will also remember that during that summer I was captured and incarcerated by agents of the North Korean government.

At great personal risk, Clarity, a gifted teleporter, traveled to North Korea and assisted in my escape. However, as she was not yet capable of teleporting with another person, and as circumstances prevented her from finding help on her own, we were forced to survive for two weeks in the Korean wilderness until the X-Men could locate and extract us. This was a highly personal time for both of us, and for that reason, we have never elaborated on the details of our escape.

It was shortly thereafter that Clarity left Cullen's to pursue mutant education elsewhere in the world, and, to our mutual regret, we lost contact. We did not see each other again until Clarity visited my office earlier today. She came to tell me something remarkable: as a result of our time in Korea, she and I have a son. His name is Ridley Gregory Rhee.

I cannot overstate my surprise. Seeing my son's picture for the first time was, without exaggeration, one of the most overwhelming experiences of my life, and I am still struggling to comprehend these events. I only know that my life has changed irrevocably, and the next few months will be full of blessings and challenges that I can now only imagine.

That Ridley and I should have to wait eight years before meeting is something Clarity and I both deeply regret. The reasons surrounding the long silence between us are still deeply personal, and I ask that you respect that. Please understand that there is nonetheless no ill will between us, even though we are still uncertain of the exact nature of our relationship.

However, the reason that Clarity has made this known to me now is that she plans to return to Cullen's and to bring Ridley with her as an enrolled student. It will be a time of profound adjustment for all three of us, and so I ask you for your understanding, friendship, and support as Clarity settles back into her teaching duties, as Ridley makes the Institute his new home, and as I seek to balance my responsibilities as a father with my duties as a teacher, counselor, and X-Man.

Clarity and Ridley are visiting the Institute this Saturday. It shall be the first time I meet my son. I ask that you welcome and receive them with all the kindness and grace I have come to expect from you. In advance, I thank you.

Sincerely,

John Rhee