Disclaimer: don't own a thing.
A/n- here's something very different. I hope you enjoy.
He stalked away from the pillar of ice. "Sooner or later, you'll drop this ploy and try another that's less effective. Sooner or later, in life or after, you'll be forced to face me...and when you finally do, you'll wish your soul had never been created. For that day, I'll wait was long as it takes." (1)
It was no use for Him to fight anymore. Everyone must stop, break, even those for whom the universe was created, for those who, in turn, created everything else. The old ones, the Gods. The Powers.
And He was the youngest power of them all. Fairest and fallen, they called Him, for He was the brightest power, the one to fall from graces so quickly. He had created entropy, the power to destroy all. That everything will be gone, eventually. For that gift, they had cast him out. And He had no protests about it.
They, those who were given the power, the wizards, at least, were fighting Him. Always fighting. Always inhibiting His success. It was a cat and mouse game. But He had the joke. Because the mouse would always die, eventually. He made sure of that.
And yet, He had never felt this sense of retirement so great as when he was searching for the boy. He wanted the monotony to end.
It was true. He had gained he ability to change, it was part of His name now, His being. But He had never taken the opportunity before. It was worthless. And now, even if He could change something, make it better, He would not be allowed. The other Powers, were sure of that. They too, were forced to habit. And They enjoyed their position of glory.
Besides, this was the role that He had given himself, voluntarily. It had been His all along. It wasn't that He didn't want it, to be the harbinger of Death, destruction, demise. He knew that he did. But it grew tiring, to always be fighting, always trying to defend His gift.
No one ever saw entropy as a true gift. They were blind. The Lone One, the Star Snuffer, He had done it as a gift to the mortals. And yet, they weren't appreciative. Didn't they understand what being immortal meant? He would never, ever stop. Never reach the timeheart.
He would always be searching, carrying on His task.
A/n- yay! My first real young wizards fic...ever? And first to be about A Wizard Alone (even though I haven't finished the book yet.)
I am a fan, but I might have made some mistakes. If you have any major gripes, review! ;)
(1) Taken directly from A Wizard Alone, by Diane Duane. Pages 169-170.
A/n- here's something very different. I hope you enjoy.
He stalked away from the pillar of ice. "Sooner or later, you'll drop this ploy and try another that's less effective. Sooner or later, in life or after, you'll be forced to face me...and when you finally do, you'll wish your soul had never been created. For that day, I'll wait was long as it takes." (1)
It was no use for Him to fight anymore. Everyone must stop, break, even those for whom the universe was created, for those who, in turn, created everything else. The old ones, the Gods. The Powers.
And He was the youngest power of them all. Fairest and fallen, they called Him, for He was the brightest power, the one to fall from graces so quickly. He had created entropy, the power to destroy all. That everything will be gone, eventually. For that gift, they had cast him out. And He had no protests about it.
They, those who were given the power, the wizards, at least, were fighting Him. Always fighting. Always inhibiting His success. It was a cat and mouse game. But He had the joke. Because the mouse would always die, eventually. He made sure of that.
And yet, He had never felt this sense of retirement so great as when he was searching for the boy. He wanted the monotony to end.
It was true. He had gained he ability to change, it was part of His name now, His being. But He had never taken the opportunity before. It was worthless. And now, even if He could change something, make it better, He would not be allowed. The other Powers, were sure of that. They too, were forced to habit. And They enjoyed their position of glory.
Besides, this was the role that He had given himself, voluntarily. It had been His all along. It wasn't that He didn't want it, to be the harbinger of Death, destruction, demise. He knew that he did. But it grew tiring, to always be fighting, always trying to defend His gift.
No one ever saw entropy as a true gift. They were blind. The Lone One, the Star Snuffer, He had done it as a gift to the mortals. And yet, they weren't appreciative. Didn't they understand what being immortal meant? He would never, ever stop. Never reach the timeheart.
He would always be searching, carrying on His task.
A/n- yay! My first real young wizards fic...ever? And first to be about A Wizard Alone (even though I haven't finished the book yet.)
I am a fan, but I might have made some mistakes. If you have any major gripes, review! ;)
(1) Taken directly from A Wizard Alone, by Diane Duane. Pages 169-170.