Fragments of memory

It was a bright day on the Nile. I was striding along the bank, enjoying the light that Ra gave.

I was of 60 seasons. My life was truly beginning, and some day I would serve as a captain in Pharaoh's army, like my father before me.

Then it happened. My sandle slipped in the Nile mud and I fell into the water of the Nile.

I couldn't swim, and as the will of fate would have it, I had fallen into one of the deeper parts of the Nile. I flailed madly, trying to reach the bank as the water flowed into my body.

Soon I could not draw breath, and I sank under the water. My world vanished into darkness.

I opened my eyes and sat up.

I was on the bank of the Nile. As I looked around I frowned. This did not look like the Land of the Dead.

Looking upriver, I saw what appeared to be the spot I had fallen in.

I walked over to make sure. There in the mud was the imprint of my sandle.

There could be no further doubt. I had been granted another chance by Ra. I did not know what I had done to deserve it, but I would not waste this precious gift.

It was almost 1,000 years later. I remembered the day I had first cheated death fondly. Since then death had become a regular part of my life.

Of course, I now knew that my power could not stem from Ra. He had died long ago. I worshiped no-one now. My life was solely for me. I did anything I wanted without any reason for fear.

If I vanished, no-one would care. And I didn't care.

On some level I knew that this was a problem. But I didn't care. I would live forever. Why should the opinions of mortals matter to me?

Was there a reason for the existence of humans? Or should I have helped Apocalypse all those years ago?

It had been 500 years since that day in Rome when I had wondered if Apocalypse had been right.

Since then, I had mellowed. It had taken a long time, but I had realized a fundamental truth: I was going to be immortal. Immortality changes your perspective. And not always for the better.

Because I was going to outlast everything made by humans, I needed to devote myself to an ideal, and stay committed to it. It was either that or become pure evil, and turn into a being who was unfit to hold the proud title of human. And that was something that I didn't want to lose.

Now, what was to be the thing that I was going to devote myself to? It could be anything, so long as it was not subject to the inherent corruption of humans.

There were such things in the world, though not many in number. I knew from them another truth: that there was something to which I would eventually have to give an accounting. And as I was going to be around for a while, I would need to make sure that the ideal was a good one, or I was going to have a major problem when I was brought to testify.

I almost wished I could die. Mortals were so lucky. Death is not an end to be feared. It is a release from the pain, fear, and loneliness of life.

Would that my end were so near.

It had been another 500 years. Humans had come a long way in the 2,000 years that I had walked the earth, but I could see how far humans had still to go. Or rather, I could see that they would go. Where they would go is something that I would see, in time. Maybe this was my purpose. To be a witness to mankind. I hoped not. My life would be simpler if I had no more purpose than other humans. Though by that token, I was indeed here as a witness. My life was never simple. For example, there had been that incident 80 years ago, when my other power developed.

It was the year 920 AD. I was aboard a viking longship, sailing toward a monastery we had spotted on the Irish coast that morning. I wasn't here to raid it, though. I was here stop a viking raid that was already in progress.

As my boat hit the beach, I leaped off the bow, and drew my distinctive twin dirks. My followers would be right behind me, but I could make a dent in the vikings before they landed.

I charged the first warrior I saw. He was dead before he knew I was there. I danced through the viking forces, killing them one after the other.

Suddenly an ax swung into my view. Before I could dodge, it swept though me.

I awoke, and began struggling to my feet. I was killed again. And again. And again. And again.

My fury grew with every passing death. And as it grew, so did something else. Something that I had never before experienced. Finally, the sensation grew too strong to be contained.

Something flew out from me, and the attacks stopped. I got to my feet, and saw that the vikings who had been attacking me were on the ground, in the throws of some great agony.

What had I done?

That was the only time my power had worked without physical contact. I now believe that the outpouring of pain was due to my power's development. At least, I'd never managed it again.

At least I now had a weapon. I could fight for what I believed. I just have to figure what that is.

Humans were so incredibly dull. The year was 1553 AD. I had been watching the human race for 2,500 years, and I could never understand their stupidity. They insisted that their petty wars and "need" for land were the most important thing that they could achieve. Not content with the teritory that they already had, they were now industriusly colonizing the "New World". The establishment of new nations was going to cause them trouble some day. There was already tension between the colonies. In a few years, I was going to take a ship across to America. I wanted to be there when things finally came to a head.

It was now 1780, 227 years later. I had been right, as usual. Things had come to a head, and in a very explosive fashion. It had been easy to see coming. First had been the decades of neglect, where the American colonists to their own devices. Then was the French and Indian War, which infuriated the colonists, and made the British want to renew their control. Much too late. Now America was in the final stages of a successful revolution. Britan had lost. I was going to stay in America. I rather liked it here. If it kept on as it had begun, it had a great future ahead of it.

It was 1950. I had seen America grow from a small cluster of 13 states to a world power capable of tipping the balance in two world wars, and maintaining a number of other conflicts in a bid for dominion. It was an interesting display to watch, and one that I no longer watched alone.

Eternal...

The first time I met Layli, we tried to kill each other. Then we found out that we both had abilities that set us apart from other humans. I had my resurrection and pain touch abilities. She could mimic the powers of others. For the first time, I understood the concept of love.

Eternal...

We lived together through the decades. She copied my powers continuesly, ensuring that we would never lose each other. We both thought that this would last forever.

Wake up...Eternal...

I ran toward Layli. She was using the strength that she had copied to pummel Titan to a standstill, unaware that one of his thugs had a gun pointed at her back.

Even as I screamed her name, the gun fired.

Eternal...Wake up...

I held her in my arms as she turned her pain-racked face to mine and said, almost in a whisper, "I'll...be waiting...for you."

The life left her body, and my heart went with it.

WAKE UP

Titan and his men were dead. But that couldn't fill the void where my heart had been.

I had suffered the only deathblow I could not recover from.

I was lost.

Eternal, WAKE UP!

I opened my eyes, gasped, and got to my feet. Charles Xavier was staring at me.

"We need to talk," He said.