Ender Wiggin had at one point or another, certainly nearing the ending days of his 'game' simulations with his jeesh, that he was nothing but a weapon. The sort of weapon, another man had grown, another man had shaped, and another man wielded to stop his own suffering and fear.

Perhaps...that was too harsh of the idea at how Ender had been used, for there is no other way of putting it, even to the dimmest at Battle School. Perhaps...Ender had, if even being used, had been used truly for the good of mankind. If only, for the good of mankind. Feeling a sense of love for a being not human...and much less the Formics...wasinhumane. But perhaps again, you could consider the little Ender that...who had commanded armies, who had commanded generals in their own right, who had killed three humans...and sadly billions not...it was that inhumanity that made Ender love all.

Ender just had a way...of changing people. Of seeing good and evil on equal terms. For he had even described himself in such a manner using his own siblings as examples. There was a Peter to every person, and a Valentine to every person. It was perhaps...the changing moment in history to be written, to be known, to be recited as truth.

Time can be described as a length of rope, in which every little aspect is a thread pulling through and winding around and around as they continue on, create new threads, and die off into the rope. When you see rope though...the longer it has been left to sit, eventually it begins to unwind. Little things...a vase placed somewhere else in the house. A man tripped down the third step instead of the fourth. But a saying goes, "A butterfly flaps its wings in China, and it rains in London." Little things, have far reaching aspects as it ripples across time's liquid surface.

So as such and so forth, and whatever you can describe, 3,000 years of history...unwinds, uncoils, sprays itself out in a never ending sea of the tiniest threads all back to a certain moment, to a certain time frame where they were once wound. Time, like Life, is a constant changing itself. Like Life, Time will continue on. Like Life, Time will trudge through the deepest ravines, over the oxygen less air of mountains, across and under the blue expanse of the seas. Like Life, Time can and will change its constant, to something it just feels was better.

How time decides to move is a complete mystery to man. Many idea have risen about the curvature of space, the curvature of light, the event horizon. All in all, time is an ebb and flow, and if it were to change can we even be sure we'd notice? Or would we simply fade from existence?

So many questions arise about time. It is a fundamental of the universe, for it can be broken down into terms of nothing else, but it is one of the least understood parts of our Universe.

So without any further to do, to say, or to recite from poetic memory, let me describe to you like a story of old, when time did not change a tiny almost insignificant ripple...it plucked up a boulder from beneath its depths, switched it for another, and hurled it back down, creating different ripples than those once...but now never really viewed.