They have arrived. I can feel it in my bones, in my heart, in that space where my soul was before the magic ripped it out. Before He destroyed all that I was and could be.
I sit here, in a ruin of a world long dead. Surrounding me are the trappings of magic which are defunct, rotted from exposure to 30 King’s Ages of dry air. Their ink, once composed of the highest quality gold and diamonds, faded to almost shadows of impressions. How appropriate, how accurate. Crystals and shard’s, trappings of the Way, lay discarded on once fine wood and marble now turned to the darkest and sharpest of rock, glimmer in my mind.
I stir, and hundreds of years of dust cascade from my mortal coil, my prison. Eyes of shimmering crystal, pristine despite my attempts to pull them from their sockets, examine the stream of possibilities behind lids of obsidian; the fall of destiny as it cascades at this event. Each of them had been reborn before dozens, even hundreds of times before, but never at the same time and never in a position to Affect. Soldier, Beggar, Prostitute, Criminal, Mage, Noble….they had each lived all walks of life, never remembering who they were. What they were.
Had I not gazed upon the broken bodies of the god’s of Athas, I would have thought one of them had arranged this concordence of births, of lessons learned, of lives. But instead it was chance, a roll of the dice.
A chance that will change Athas for all eternity….in both directions. I will be free.