Author's Note: My apologies for the long wait. bows in shame and offers chocolate at the temple of the patient reader

Delilah - June 21, 2004

.

.

Chapter Two

.

Time is a cruel goddess. She kills what is loved and resurrects what has no right to exist. Time is everything that makes one live and all that creates the wish to die. A fickle queen that doesn't understand what it means to be not endless, a smiling torturer whose only thought is to just be.

Time is the beginning and the end. Time controls and destroys.

.

.

They call him eternal. A being loved by time. A silent warrior whose only reason for living is the whim of nature's master. A protector of knowledge.

Since the begin of time this silent man has lived within their people, hidden away from prying eyes and curious glances. Everybody knows that. The legends as ingrained in their minds as the fact of his existence. Everybody knows and everybody understands.

And when in the silence of darkness they hear a sound of such pain, so full of sorrow that it might break one's heart, they close their eyes and pray that he may be allowed to die. For it is a cruel punishment to live when all that was once loved and cherished is gone. Far too cruel a burden to bear with a sane mind.

But there is nothing that can be done.

And so they live on, full knowing that one soul among the masses mourns for a time that never was. They forget what was once as true as the blood that falls on stone. They forget where legend ends and dreaming begins. And in the end, generations later there is nothing more but the cold whisper that touches one's mind that reminds of the once great warrior. Nothing more than hints of darkness hidden under thousands of layers of light.

A light that promises only lies.

.

.

Time is a cruel goddess. Destroyer of worlds and bringer of life. Only she understands what happens and why. Only she, eternal queen that she is, can see the reasons behind all the pain and suffering.

And a reason there is to deny one lonely soul the freedom of death, to make a once proud fighter live through what can only be called the greatest of hells. A reason that, once it is understood where to look, is as obvious as the moon.