Six years had passed since they had won their right to continue their existence. Six years had passed since they had gone their separate ways . . . six years had passed since he had learned the horrible news about the power that he possessed.
Fayt heaved a weary sigh as he lowered the axe he was using to chop firewood. At one point, his arms would have ached from the amount of abuse he was putting them through. He had been accustomed to living rather . . . luxuriously. Electricity, running water, computers and game simulators . . . anything that made life simple, he had once had within his grasp. Then things had changed. The Executioners had come and nearly wiped out everything he had grown up knowing and caring about . . .
He blinked then quickly shook the memories away. Dwelling on what had happened did not do him any good. He had made his decision a long time ago to escape from civilization. His abilities were not lost on him. Fayt could destroy anything with a single thought, and the realization of what others could use him for scared the hell out of him.
'It's for the better,' he thought, wiping his brow then picking his axe back up. 'If I'm where no one can find me, I won't be a threat to them. I won't be used . . . as the weapon that I know I am.'
One could say that Fayt was running from his problems. After all, once the final battle had been won, that was exactly what he had done. Take off and ran from the problems that had hounded him. However, Fayt knew the truth. He was a weapon, a genetically created weapon, thanks to his father . . .
Tears stung at his eyes as Fayt thought of the man who had raised him. In a burst of anger, he brought his axe down as hard as he could on the block of wood.
'I never had the chance to ask him why . . . I mean, I know why . . . but . . . there has to be more to me than just the ability to destroy . . . isn't there?'
Thunder rolled overhead and Fayt looked up. A light rain began to fall, soaking the shoulders of his clothing, but he knew that it would get worse. It was getting to be that time of the year.
Working quickly, Fayt gathered all of his firewood and put it away for later use. He just had stepped into his cabin when the heavens opened up, creating a torrential downpour. For a moment, he watched the rain come down then he smiled. Sure, his life was not exactly how he had originally planned it to be but he was happy with the way things were now. He would not change a thing and he knew it. Fayt turned away from the weather and headed for the bath. He would indulge in a simple life until he died, and he would keep all those he cared about safe from harm.
Fate, it seemed, would have other plans for him . . .