Fate
Fate was a cold-handed power, wielding its force without feeling or prejudice. When fate dictated an event, there would be no stopping its will. For one warrior, its power came in the form of a test, an ultimate challenge, a choice.
To live and fight another day or to lay all one's cards on the table? This was the hand that fate had dealt, and the warrior knew his choice was already made. His choice had been made long ago, by himself, when he decided to tip the scales towards the enemy. When he handed the Golden Disk to those who would use it for evil, he had sealed his own fate. The warrior had ordered his own death.
Those who had been left behind knew his choice was one of honor and duty, yet they did not understand how deep the act had gone.
For death was not the end, but merely the beginning for the warrior. Death had come that evening, right after the sun went down. However, death's hold was not certain, and the warrior's soul was freed to live again. It assumed a new form, with a new mind, and a new body.
There were scattered memories. Like pieces of a broken stain glass window. Not enough to put together, but enough to form moments of recognition. Always elusive, just beyond his grasp, the warrior found his new purpose empty and devoid of something more he knew he once possessed.
Only when the iron chains were released from his soul did the purpose of his being come into the light once more. To protect those left behind, to fulfill fate's will, that was his purpose. The warrior should not be alive, he had died, had said his final farewell. Every part of his life had been in order when he had left it behind. Now he would have to make sure it was restored before departing once more.
He could have stayed with his comrades. He could have rejoined the living, but he knew that he did not belong there. He would be accepted back with open arms, but he would not feel the completeness he had once obtained with his sacrifice.
The warrior died once more. Once more becoming a hero. Once more being grieved by those left behind.
Perhaps fate is not as powerful as it would like. For one being had, for one moment, slipped from its grasp and had denied its will.
Fate would have to learn a new lesson.
Never underestimate a warrior.
Fin.
Author's Note: This was something I was told to write about by a fan of this show; who had read my very early fics. (I started writing in and around 1993, and Transformers was one of my first topics, along with Star Trek) I toyed with the idea after getting an idea of the show. I was a fan of the original Transformers and was afraid to watch a spin-off since they can hurt the reputation of the original show. However, I found it to be a pleasant surprise and did enjoy many aspects of it, especially in the later seasons. I found an old copy of this while digging through old discs that contained my early work and decided it was worthy of posting.
Thank you for reading, and please review!!
Elvensong
