To Defy Fate

The rain beat down hard and relentess upon the field of the dead and dying. Drumming against the armour of the fallen. Here and there the carrion birds croaked and bickered over choice scraps.

The birds paid the cloaked figure no heed as he strode over the blood stained ground. Those fallen and close to death clawed weakly at the hem of his tunic as he passed. He ignored them. His grey eyes beneath bushy grey eyebrows betrayed emotion long kept supressed. He tried to not hear the moans of the fallen.

He could save them.

He could save all of them.

But he is prohibted. Bound by laws sacrosant to his kind.

That this battle, this horrific loss of life, was the result of him pushing the boundaries of the laws was bad enough. Directly or indirectly, the dead and dying all around him was due to his actions.

Finally the cloaked figure reached his goal. A warrior clad in armour and chainmail only slightly more grand than those around him. His helm adorned with a simple crown of dark steel. A horrific wound had taken this warrior's life. The killer lay close by, impaled through the torso himself. His armour was grander, more ornate and menacing. Wrought to inspire fear. Even the helm was shaped like that of a draconic beast.

Myrddin, for that was the name chosen for this endeavour, sighed and looked back at the fallen King.

"Forgive me Arthur... forgive me."

"And so it is we predicted."

Myrddin did not turn to look at the man who stood beside him. Like Myrddin, he took the form of a old man though one much more grand and regal than he. A facade. And to Myrddin, a sign of overwhelming arrogance.

"Come to gloat old friend?" Myrddin said, trying but failing to not sound bitter.

Telnorik scoffed. "Pettiness does not suit you... Esiak."

Hearing his true name spoken so glibly was... annoying. He was Myrddin, for that was how he knew himself, so long had he worn the persona.

"It was.... entertaining... this little project of yours. To bring some semblance of civilisation to these backward savages. An intriguing experiment. But as I foresaw your endeavour was quite doomed." Telnorik stepped forward and leaned down to examine the fallen King. Myrddin bristled. The reaction he felt was confusing. When had he truly grown to care for these people. And this person in particular?

"Still. What's done is done. We allowed you considerable freedom in this venture and it merely proved what we knew already. These people... these... humans... are doomed to self annhilation. They are not our successors." Telnorik straightened up and surveyed the carnage all around them. "Animals. Intelligent animals yes, but worthy inheritors of us? No. Most assuredly not. Quite what you saw in them I cannot imagine."

"Why?" Myrddin said angrily. A reaction that surprised himself.

It certainly suprised Telnorik. "What?"

"Why... why must it be over?" Myrddin looked up at Telnorik, his hands tightening around the oaken staff.

"It is over because this is exactly what we predicted would transpire. Call it fate? Call it inevitable. These people will not be able to overcome their inherent natures and transcend to a greater level. They are doomed. Whether it be a year from now or millennia, they will destroy themselves." Telnorik looked around him at the dead and dying, his face betraying disgust. "And quite honestly I think that is a good thing. The prospect of these... these primitives spread beyond this world is worrying."

Myrddin... Esiak... was silent.

Telnorik was right.

Mankind was doomed. Their predictions were never wrong. As a species humans had potential, but it was not to last. In time they would be poised on the brink of a space age only to sqaunder the opporunity and strand themselves upon this world. Thier numbers would escalate, the enviroment would suffer and their end would come in the form of apocalyptic war, disease or ecological collapse.

Unless... unless?

"Come Esiak, it is done. You made a mistake is all. You put your faith in... lesser beings. But no harm is done. We will search for other inheritors," Telnorik extended his hand to Esiak. He smiled.

"No."

Telnorik looked confused. "No? No what?"

"My name is not Esiak. It... is... Myrddin!" he said the words with a passion he had not felt in untold aeons. He felt eyes upon him. The Watchers. This was a Moment. A pivotal point. "I will not abandon these people... this world!"

For a moment all was silent. The world seemingly stopped. Time itself halted. Telnorik glared at Myrddin.

"You would... deny fate? Is that how you see this?" Telnorik said. He shifted his body, taking up an attack stance.

"I would." Myrddin readied himself.

"That you would turn your back upon your own people... to side with the animals. To deny the inevitable," Telnorik shook his head. He was not sad. He was angry. Angry at being defied. He was, after all, the Prime. "I will allow this heresy no longer. I should never have given you the freedom to pursue this project."

There was a flash and the true Telnorik was revealed. Taller and radiant, clad in material not of this world. His eyes glowing with white fire. The Prime that he was revealed. A God manifest in divine form.

Myrddin could have cast aside his own semblance. He could have revealed his true form. Instead, he remained Myrddin. The Wizard. Grey of beard and wizened with age.

"ESIAK... I JUDGE THEE ANAMATHEA TO THE GREAT PLAN. THE SENTENCE... OBLIVION! YOU WILL NOT BE REBORN FROM THE MACHINE! YOUR MEMORY WILL BE ERADICATED. YOUR EXISTENCE WIPED FROM RECORD." The words were like thunder, sonic waves pulsing outward. The birds took flight. The humans close by who had clung to life expired from ruptured orders and shattered bones. Telnorik rose into the air, the rain hissing into steam as it hit the invisible field that surrounded him.

Myrddin readied himself. He was not ready to die.

He had so much to do.

"YOU ALWAYS WERE THE RENEGADE!" Telnorik boomed as a spear of golden light coalesced in his outstretched hand.

Too deny fate... to change the course of history... I would risk it all for these people. My people! Myrddin thought.

The Golden Spear soldified in Telnorik's hand.

Myrddin raised his simple oaken staff.

The world began to turn once more. Time unfroze.

Silence reigned again. The rain had lessened to a persistent drizzle. The birds had not returned to resume their grisly banquet.

Myrddin stood in retrospective silence.

He had done the unthinkable. He had defied the Prime, the undisputed leader of the Elnorian people. He had killed him. An unforgiveable crime for a people so few in number.

Yet, no shame was felt. No regret. Myrddin had cast aside the ways of his people and forged a new path, one not built upon logic and prediction. He had done what he had done out of emotion, a sense of attatchement for a short lived barbarous people.

He looked up and knew he was being watched. "You saw what transpired. The Prime is gone, slain by my hand. Judge me if you wish for I do not deny my actions. Strike me down now if you believe me wrong in my chosen path!" He spoke the words softly for he knew that even if whispered They would hear.

"No need for judgement... not at all!" said a voice behind Myrddin. A voice he knew well. He sighed.

"Kalik, of course you were watching it all unfold."

"Merely... observing." The other Elnorian entered Myrddin's field of vision. Short of stature and clad as ever in a white mask with no ornemenation. Only two holes through which eyes redolent in mischief peered out.

"Your opinion? Have I made a terrible mistake?"

"We are Elnorians, brother... we do not make mistakes." Kalik waved his hand, the gesture ecompassing the battlefield and the myriad dead. "What now?"

Myrddin looked at the fallen King. For the first time in a very, very long time... he felt he was on the right path.

"We change the course of history."

"There will be repucssions... you know this don't you? There are forces who will not take kindly to such flagrant disregard for the rules."

And Myrddin did something he had most defintely not done in a very, very long time.

He smiled.