Intro/Disclaimer: I DO NOT own the concept behind Immortals, this
Is owned by Panzer/Davis, or whoever may of purchased/licensed
it from its creators. There is no copyright infringement intended.
And yes, I know I blatantly broke the "No One Knows Where They
Come From" rule here, Duh! The following story is the result of too
much time spent thinking about Highlander, watching War Games
just before going to bed, and dog sitting for a friend thus ending up
wide awake again at four in the morning. Read it at your own Peril.
-------------Snip here with Sharp Thingie---------------
The Mother - A Non-Canon HL Fanfic
By I Fear Not (IFearNot@aol.com)
She felt all her Children, for they were each and every one a part of
her. She knew all about their lives, She knew their joys, and their
sorrows. She knew their triumphs and their failures. She felt their
injuries, and though they didn't know it, she healed their wounds.
And of course she knew of their Game. It was her reason for being.
What they didn't know was that it would be a long time before there
could be Only One and The Game could end. As long as she had
volunteers to draw from, The Game would go on, and volunteers
were in ever growing supplies.
She didn't remember the cause or the reason for The Game, but
then she didn't need to concern herself with it either. The Watchers
were responsible for tracking the actual progress of The Game, and
in the end The Judge would insure that The One survived through
to the end. That wasn't her place. Her job was simply to be The
Mother. The Source of the Players.
As she walked along the street, she suddenly felt a yanking on her
soul. One of her children had fallen, had lost her head.
The Mother did what she always did in such a circumstance. She did
her job. Seeking with her mind she felt for the closest miserable
soul, tired of it's current life.
She followed the thread of pain down a walkway, and up to a small
house.
Inside was a middle aged man sitting before a fireplace and looking
aimlessly at the burning logs.
Silently, as only she could, she slipped through the very boards of
the wall, and entered the room, moving to stand behind the morose
man. Finally she spoke in a soft monotone. "Would you like to play a
game?"
"Huh?" the man said, jerking around and staring at her in confusion.
"I said, would you like to play a game? I know you are sad, and I can
help. All you have to do is ask."
"Ask what?"
"Ask if you can play." She said.
"Can I play a game?" the man asked, still not really understanding,
but playing along with the strange woman in his den.
"In a while, my child," she said, extending a part of herself and then
reshaping both the soul, as well as it's container for a new purpose,
creating a future Immortal. "But first, you will have to grow up, and
live, and die. And then you can play, for a while at least." She said,
lifting the new baby girl up, and carrying her through the wall to be
deposited outside the door of the local hospital.
A Beginning?