Umber

From despair comes the will to answer a desperate call. (sab)

The Messengers are coming for me. I have seen it. I feel it in my bones.

Soon, I will be dead.

The world comes to an end. The future lies before me, plain as the road to Greyhawk. Two paths: one where darkness and pain and evil reign, forevermore; one where the future is less certain but this disaster, at least, is averted.

They stand before me now: the kingly figure with sad eyes, the slim celestial whose slightest movement seems to be executed with purpose. “You know why we have come,” they ask. “Will you hold to your beliefs? Will you do what you know must be done?”

I know too, that they have sought others to ask this question of. But there are so few who possess the knowledge, the strength, and the will. I fear that I have sufficient measure of none of these. Strangely, though, it is this lack of knowing that gives me my answer. If I were strong enough, sure enough, wise enough, might I wield my powers instead of offering my soul? And might that not still result in our doom?

“I will do all that I can. I hope that it will be enough.”

“As do we,” they say.

And now we hurtle to our destiny in a strange place, never before explored, never before thought important. And yet, this day it is the center of the world. I pull ahead of the others to give myself the room to be alone, to think – no, to not think, simply to be.

Ahead, like a child’s snow globe, a sphere where time flows slowly. Within the sphere, a ruined castle made of flesh and bone. Within the castle, a cage of metal and two beings hurling power and strength enough to destroy entire cities. Within the cage, a fragile sphere. Within the sphere, the world. Within the world… I cannot look upon it with my Sight any longer or surely I shall lose my mind.

I move into the sphere. The larger of the beings looks at me with recognition upon its terrible visage. Golden and awesome, it has four faces, four legs, four arms. Somehow, though, I recognize all of those within it, and the sight threatens to consume me. I must not think, but simply act… I move near the sphere. A faint tugging alerts me to the presence of a nearby power well. Here is where it must be done.

I have served the Balance for all of my life. Now, it is time to do so forever.

My companions join me in the sphere and take up similar positions. The four-armed being swings its massive blade, slicing through powerful protections that surround the Enemy as if they were so much tissue. It collapses to the ground, but refuses to die.

“It is time. End it.” The expression on the golden face is unreadable; the blade – the great blade of judgment – yes, I recognize that too, as if from a dream – it wavers just for a moment, then strikes home. How odd. There is pain but no blood. But so cold… I am transfixed like an insect on a pin…     

     Now I can SEE