Prologue

Time is a delicate thing, one thing going wrong can have dire effects. To make
these occurrences rare, time created a defense mechanism, it would diverge. Every time a
large event happened time would be on the lookout, if something went wrong, the deviant
occurrence would be split off into a different course of events, allowing the occurrence to
go smoothly. As this happened more and more, it became apparent that diverging wasn’t
enough. The solution was time went back and started to manually split separate courses of
events from creation itself. Five hundred so called timestrands were created, including the
Masssassian, Gaian, Trybill, Baconian, and the Primary.
Even though these precautions were made, time was still being injured by the
foolishness of its inhabitors. Time then made the timestrands converge at the point of their
separate apocalypses, thus the end of time was born. As the timestrands, one by one
converged, a planet-like sphere was born, the timesphere. At the beginning of time, the
core of creation kept pumping out more and more things to feed all the new timestrands
branching off. The core also gave time seven gifts. One was a room of mirrors that gave
the user almost omnipotence, Which was placed in the center of the timesphere. Also a
powerful guardian for time was given, unfortunately like all sentient beings he was given
free will by default, he chose a destructive path. The third gift was a golden pocket watch
that allowed the possessor the ability to alter time at will. The last four gifts were given
after the guardian had turned from time’s will, they were four more guardians. Time
decided one would be placed in suspended animation and held there until the Primary
timestrand ended, then he would be transported to the end of time and given the pocket
watch. The other three guardians would be scattered through time and space along the
Primary strand, meant to be found by the newly awoken guardian.
In response to this move, the evil guardian took over the core of time and the
mirrors with it, but time was able to limit him. His body was permanently sealed into the
core, the only way he could escape his prison was reach out with his mind and posses
people along the various timestrands.
Soon it will be time for the fourth gift to find his three companions. He will find
them using several prophecies and legends. The most important one of these is the
prophecy written by the turned guardian:

In a dark prison within all time,
a powerful evil spun this rhyme
One from the forest steadfast and pure
One from the darkness that few endure.
One form where time gasped out its last
One brought mistakenly from the past.

And time goes on...

Chapter 1

At the end of time he stands, on the back alley of eternity. In his hand he holds a
golden pocket watch and a cane. The misty shadow of all that has ever been envelops him.
He looks up from his watch as he slips it back into the pocket of his tattered brown trench
coat. He straitens his bowler hat and starts walking along the silent streets. Soon he
becomes engulfed in a bright blue light.
* * *
As Sir Rupert stepped out of his carriage and into the filthy streets of 19th century
London, he felt under his tattered brown trench coat. He was affirmed by the cold steel of
the 21st century Desert Eagle pistol in his pocket. According to his contacts In London,
Jack the Ripper was due to strike near here soon.
Sir Rupert looked out over the dirty crowds of the city, looking feverishly for any
suspicious people. He saw many but one caught his eye. He was a tall muscular man in
dark, drab clothing. A glint of metal shone from beneath his belt. Sir Rupert followed him
through the streets. The man talked briefly with a woman, and slipped her a pouch full of
coins. The woman gave him a look and walked down an alley. The man looked around for
something and in the process caught Rupert’s gaze. They looked into each others eyes for
a moment. Rupert was now certain this was the ripper. The ripper must have seen
something in Rupert as well, he ran full out down the dark alley. Sir Rupert followed,
traipsing through the ally’s mud as silently as he could.
The darkly dressed man was approaching the young woman from behind. He
pulled a cheaply made knife from his belt and raised it to strike the girl.
“Excuse me my good fellow, but would not be more efficient to use one of these?”
Sir Rupert said as he pulled his firearm from the fold of his coat. The man turned to
Rupert and started to approach him, knife still poised. He resembled a man Rupert knew.
He was a prince! That meant the rumor that the ripper was an heir to the throne was true!
No, that wasn’t it, there was something behind the murderer’s eyes, something inhuman.
As the ripper looked upon him he realized that Rupert had figured it out, his eyes closed
into razor like slits.
“You may have found me out, but I know what you are, Gas-” Jack said but was
cut off by Rupert.
Sir Rupert just gave a sly smile, said, “In that case, goodbye, Jack!” then fired.
From the ripper’s mortal wound a brilliant light shone, blinding the young woman
who saw all this. When she cleared her eyes she did not see her savior, Rupert was gone
without a trace, not even a footprint in the thick mud of the alley.
* * *
The mysterious man reappeared at the end of time and continued to walk down the
eternal streets. Suddenly he stopped, he waved his hand and the mist parted to reveal a
door. It was an ornately carved door, set into a frame shaped like a roman arch. The man
opened the door and stepped inside. A tall pale man whose face resembled a bat was
sitting in a chair by some book cases, reading. As the other man entered from his walk, the
pale man rose and spoke in a strong yet relaxed voice, “Gaspar! Good to see you. Do you
need something?”
“Not really, I’m just looking for Catian. I need to give him his gun back,” Gaspar
replied.
“Oh, he is in 1734 right now, and he is going home later. Your best bet is to leave
his gun in the time machine,” the pale man said.
“Thanks, See you.”
“Yeah, see you later.”
“Very funny, what you just said, you know time is nonexistent here,” Gaspar said as he
walked down the stairs to the time machine. When he reached the large Time-ship he
gingerly placed the gun in the cargo hold. He would not need a gun for his next task. No,
he would need a kitana sword. Japan, May 15, 1602. Gaspar was going Shogun hunting.

Chapter 2


Gaspar listened carefully to the sounds echoing down the misty streets. Chris
always made lots of noise. Clang! Shing! Oof! Gaspar was knocked to the ground. Chris,
not noticing, continued to do an acrobatic dance with his sword. Gaspar got up, dusted his
trenchcoat off, and raised his hand, “Freeze!” He screamed. Immediately Chris became as
still as a statue, Gaspar, walked up and disarmed him. After he was confident the youth
was not going to continue his dance, he raised his hand again, “Continue.”
“Hey, where’s my sword?” Chris asked as he started to move again.
“You were practicing on the sidewalk again, you knocked me over, and so I froze
you in time and disarmed you,” Gaspar said in a partially annoyed voice.
“Sorry, but my house isn’t big enough!”
“You have a 10,000 square foot house with 20 foot vaulted ceilings!”
Chris cleared his throat uncomfortably, ”Uh, so you were on the sidewalk going
where?”
“I was going to ask you if you would lend me a Katana.”
“Sure, for what?”
“Shogun hunting.”
“Cool!” Chris said as he led Gaspar down the street to a large house. The interior
of the house was littered with blades of any make or model. They walked down a long
hallway to a pile of weapons in a corner. Chris reached his arm into the pile and drew it
out unscathed and holding a long and slightly curved sword.
“Thanks,” Gaspar said, taking the sword, ”Want me to bring you back
something?”
“A ninja,” Was the sarcastic remark. Gaspar rolled his eyes, pulled out his pocket
watch and disappeared.
* * *
Gaspar reappeared on a beach still dressed in his trench coat and bowler hat. He
glanced around, then looked at his watch, Miamato island Japan, 1602. He put the watch
away and started walking down the beach. Soon Gaspar realized he stuck out like a sore
thumb, and that a small party of samurai were following him. He smiled then turned
around. He drew the Katana and swung it drunkenly at the approaching samurai. They
laughed and said something in Japanese, presumably along the lines of, “foolish man!”
The samurai charged Gaspar, ready to cut him up. Gaspar again gave a smile and
raised his hand. “Ravages of time!” He screamed, his voice had a deep, unnatural echo in
it, as if another was saying the words with him. A jet black skull of smoke rose from the
tips of Gaspar’s fingers. From Gaspar’s palm rose a sphere of “anti-light.” The sphere
seemed to draw all light around it until the beach was darker than midnight. Smiling still,
Gaspar twitched the hand that had the skull over it. The skull sprung to life and glided
over to the samurai. Once it reached the group, it shattered into wisps of smoke that fell to
the ground corrupting whatever they touched, the samurai were touched at least once each
by the wisps. The lead samurai screamed something in Japanese as he looked at his flesh in
horrified wonder. The skin was rotting away to reveal shriveling muscles and deteriorating
bones. He was rotting away before his very eyes.
Gaspar looked on with a cold gaze as the samurai, one by one, dropped to the
ground nothing but a few remains in armor. The last samurai to drop was a fairly young
samurai. His half rotted face was mostly gone. He took a rattling last breath, then leaped
weakly at Gaspar, who simply cast another spell and the man disintegrated. Showing no
emotion, Gaspar turned and started to walk away, but he collapsed twenty feet down the
beach.

Chapter 3

“Gaspar! Gaspar!” A gruff man said as he shook Gaspar, “Wake up, it’s me
Greyson.”
“What? I thought you were dead! “Good to see you again!” Gaspar said, his eyes
wide, “We are a long way from where we last met.”
“13,856 Years and 4 continents to be exact.” Greyson replied.
“Really, where does the time go?”
“To you, Remember?”
Gaspar chuckled a bit at Greyson’s comment, then started to look around the small
hut, it looked like Chris’s house. Blades littered the floor, and various other sharp
implements hung on the walls. In the far corner, though, there was an area that was clear,
save a set of meter tall swords in a case. The blades had dried blood on them. Gaspar
looked away, his eye downcast. He knew what the blood was from. Greyson took notice
of this, “Gaspar, It was a mistake. What happened in the war wasn’t your fault.”
“80,000 deaths in 6 hours because I couldn’t save a little girl from herself, 120,000
more because I couldn’t convince a holy knight to walk away from a fight? It is my fault!
Now the boy will hate me, the girl will too, and-” Gaspar trailed off.
“And what, Gaspar?”
“And I still need to find the one ‘brought mistakenly from the past!’”
“It seems like you are screwed, but don’t lose hope Gaspar, you are far too clever
to let a thing like complete failure get in your way.”
“Thanks, I guess,” Gaspar said slowly as he walked over to the door, took his coat
and hat off a hook by the door and his kitana from a storage sheath. He donned his clothes
and left without a word.
“Same old Gaspar, says hello but not goodbye,” Greyson said with a smile, “I hope
old Juz isn’t too much of a challenge.”
Gaspar knew the lay of the land well and was able to avoid any more freak
encounters. He arrived at the castle soon after dawn the day after he left Greyson’s house.
He walked up to the gate and threw a large stone at it. Wumph! It made a sizable echo.
“Who’s down there?” A young man said, hanging his head out of a window above
the gate.
“It is I, Gaspar,” Gaspar replied.
“Gaswho? Your name is of little significance to me!”
“Then may I have the honor of your name, for I do not find it trivial.”
“Grendel, I am the shogun’s gatekeeper.”
“Can I come in then? I only wish to speak to Juztyn.”
“Very well,” Grendel said as he manipulated something behind the window, which
opened the gate. Gaspar tipped his hat at the man as he passed under the window on his
way inside.
Gaspar walked into the entrance hall of the castle, it was large, but was segmented
into smaller rooms by thin paper walls. At the end of the hall was a grand staircase,
Gaspar took it up to the next floor of the castle, similarly divided. He continued up the
staircase until he found the room he as looking for. The room was small, and once again
had paper walls, but there was a man sitting in the room, looking out the window. As
quietly as he could, Gaspar sneaked into the room. No sooner did he step foot in the room
then a kunai blade flew across the room. Gaspar dodged it and drew the kitana in a
smooth reflexive motion.
“Very good, but I would have never let my enemy throw the blade in the first
place,” the shogun said as he rose also drawing his sword.
“You know why I am here, Juztyn?” Gaspar asked.
“Yes I do, you plan to kill me.”
“Nothing personal, you are just a horrible oppressive dictator, and you are
screwing up the course of history.”
“Oh, that’s not personal in the least,” Juztyn said sarcastically, ”Okay, lets go.”
They squared off and Juztyn started to bow, “Don’t do that,” Gaspar said, “it
would be too tempting to lop your head off, and we both know there is no respect here.”
Juztyn stopped bowing and did a backwards somersault to put some ground between
them. Gaspar simply closed the gap with a leap. Then the duel began. Clang! Clang!
Whoop! Justyn almost gutted Gaspar. Shing! Clang! Thump! Juztyn kicked Gaspar across
the room. They dueled like that for a long time, give and take, near miss for near miss,
until Juztyn got a lucky hit, he cleaved open Gaspar’s left leg. Gaspar staggered back and
through one of the paper walls, unfortunately it was an exterior wall, he fell.
It took him a full 10 seconds to hit the ground, and when he did so it was with a
sickening thud. Juztyn stood at the hole in the wall beaming down at Gaspar. “Never mess
with a shogun! Man is mortal, but samurai have godlike strength!” The shogun’s smile
faltered a bit when he saw that Gaspar was moving, slowly, but moving all the same,
“Guards, dispatch him!”
The guards quickly ran over to Gaspar and prepared to dice him up, when Gaspar
started to move rapidly, unnaturally so. He pulled out a silver device no samurai had seen
before. A .45 caliber device to be exact. There was a sound like a bone breaking but much
louder. One guard staggered back ten feet before he fell over, missing parts of his torso.
Similar things happened to the other guards, who eventually retreated. Gaspar put his gun
away and pulled out a vial of liquid. He poured some on his leg and drank the rest.
Instantly his wounds sealed up.
The shogun watched in amazement as Gaspar, picked his sword back up and
started to climb the frame of the castle. About five feet short of the place where Juztyn
stood, Gaspar pulled himself up rapidly, his trench coat flapping wildly and glided not only
to the hole, but above it onto the roof. He came down hard, crashing through several
floors and landing directly in front of the shogun. “Never piss me off!” Gaspar said as he
spun his kitana, and curved it directly into Juztyn’s midsection. Gaspar twisted the blade
making a stomach turning slurp, “Do we understand each other?”
The shogun replied, gasping for the air to do so, “Yes!”
“Good,” Gaspar said softly as he raised a foot, “goodbye.” He kicked hard, the
shogun flew twenty feet out of the hole before he started to descend. Gaspar pulled out his
pocket watch, adjusted it, and started to disappear. The moment before he faded into
nothingness, a man dressed in all black, jumped through one of the walls and tackled
Gaspar. They disappeared together.

Chapter 4

At the end of time he appears, with a ninja wrapped around his waist. The pale bat
faced man is standing in the corner of the room with Chris. He pushes the ninja away, who
in turn draws a weapon. They are two kidney knifes. “You killed the shogun! I must kill
the shogun! now I will kill you! And I can too, Sasaki is a mighty ninja warrior!” The ninja
says.
“Freeze!” Gaspar yells.
* * *

Gaspar, quickly and efficiently disarmed the ninja, and he was loaded down with
weapons. Gaspar then gave the “continue” command and the ninja started checking
himself in shock, “Where did you put my weapons?” The ninja asked.
“I have them,” Gaspar replied.
“I will kill you with my bare hands! You killed Juztyn! I needed to kill him to bring
honor to myself so that I may be welcome in my clan again!”
“What does it matter? The shogun is dead, you could say that you did it,” As
Gaspar said this Sasaki was looking around.
“I would claim victory but you killed me! This must be the afterlife!”
“You are quite alive, this is the end of time”
“End of time?”
“Yes, how can I explain it? The dawn of time is eternity frozen at the point of
creation, Time is eternity itself, and the end of time is eternity frozen at the point of the
apocalypse. Essentially eternity had an end and you are standing in it.”
“If you live here how did you go to the shogun, and get back.”
“three dimensional beings can interact with their surroundings, I am four
dimensional. I have the ability, with the right tools, to travel through, alter, and manipulate
time itself.”
Sasaki looked around the room at the two men standing in the corner. He
addressed them, “Does this man make any sense to you?”
“No,” was the unanimous reply. Gaspar gave an amused chuckle and smiled,
“someday you will, someday.”
“Very funny!” Snapped Sasaki as he started to pace the room. He gave a waving
gesture at the pale faced man and Chris, “How did they get here?”
“Let me answer that,” the pale faced man said. He looked up from the spot on the
ground he was looking at and started to speak. His thin bat face barely moved as he did
so, and his tone was smooth and low. “A while back Chris came here with Gaspar almost
the same way you did, by mistake,” the pale man said. As so as he ad said mistake, Gaspar
gave a smile and threw his hands up.
“Sasaki was mistakenly brought from the past!” Gaspar screamed, “He is the fifth
gift!”
“Okay,” The pale man said in a confused voice before continuing, “I came here
almost immediately after Gaspar, I am his assistant. I record all his doings in the past so he
can fix them if they still needs ironed out. My name is Aetuernus Scriptus, rather that is
my title, I have no given name.”
“Why doesn’t Chris go home?” Sasaki asked.
“His family was dead when he came with me, he has nothing to go home to,”
Gaspar said.
“I see,” Sasaki said.
“Sasaki, you have been in the end of time. That leaves a mark on your life force so
that you may be brought back here by a powerful enough person, at any time. So why
don’t you just stay on with me?”
“You want me to join you?”
“Yes.”
“So you come to my land, kill my target, steal me from my home and then ask me
to join you?’
“Precisely”
“I guess I have no choice. But I have two questions. What is there to gain? And
what is there to lose?”
“Everything, In both cases. Sasaki, you are part of a prophecy. There are four of
us. One from the forest steadfast and pure, one from the darkness few endure, one from
where time gasped out its last, and one brought mistakenly from the past. You are the last
one. We need you, the universe needs you.”
“Then how can I refuse?” Sasaki said as he walked over to Gaspar and bowed,
Gaspar returned the bow.
That night they ate a dinner of very strange cuisine. The meal had element of at
least five different cultures. Gaspar had a steak, tea, a slice of French bread, and a bit of
spaghetti.
Sasaki had wasabi and a bowl of rice. Aetuernus Scriptus and Chris had a quick salad each
they rushed off to their respective engagements, Chris to his sword practice and Aetuernus
to his writings. Which left Sasaki and Gaspar alone.
“So what exactly are you?” Sasaki asked Gaspar.
“I guess I can be best described as a time lord, but to be totally immodest, I am
much more than that. Much like you are much more than a mere ninja,” Gaspar relied,
“Any other questions?”
“What is the extent of your power?”
“I can manipulate time as if it was a plaything, stop it, speed it up, slow it down. In
fact I can even-“
“Raise the dead?” Sasaki cut him off.
“No, no one can do that.”
“Oh,” Sasaki said disappointedly. His eyes darted quickly out the window, the sky
was an endless void. Finally he spoke again, “I, uh, have to go somewhere.”
“where?”
“I need to, um, find myself a suitable home. I have a feeling I will be staying here a
long time.” Sasaki said with a brief smile. Gaspar returned the smile. Sasaki walked out
the door and down the misty streets.
Eventually he stopped at a house, 112289 Davis street. It was a three bedroom one
bathroom house, fully furnished. Sasaki loved it, it was a thousand time better than the
cave his clan hid in. He walked in and sat down on a couch, it was the softest thing he had
ever felt, he was asleep almost instantly.
Back at Gaspar’s house, Gaspar was finishing his dinner. “One down, two to do,”
He said, “Two spiteful, angry ones to go.”

Chapter 5

A young boy in cream colored robes, no older than eight, sits sobbing on a throne.
The throne is actually a tree that grew in the rough shape of a chair, and over the years it
has become moss covered. The boy, teary eyed, looks up to the sky and whispers a singe
word into the forest.

*** SEVEN YEARS LATER ***

Walking through the forest was a man draped in loose green robes. Below the
robes, he had a suit of light armor on, and below that he was quite muscular despite his
lanky appearance. Though he was barely 15, he appeared to be far older. His face, which
was covered by his hood, seemed to project a mysterious air of wisdom and knowledge
beyond his years. The appearance that he was an older man was increased by the fact that
he had two long locks of white hair streaming from beneath his hood. As this man was
strolling through the forest, he noticed something moving through the underbrush. Almost
instantaneously he faced the movement. It was moving away quickly through the
underbrush,
“Fine, a hunt then!” the man said sharply. He rubbed the highly polished head of
his staff and his cloak became greener, and greener. He was completely indecipherable
from the rest of the forest now, save the two, long locks of snowy hair.
He made practically no sound as he ran full out through the forest, leaving no trail
or other marks of his presence. He was running so fast that he did not realize when his
hood came off. His appearance was fair, though aged. The rest of his hair was actually jet
black handing down to the middle of his neck and was hardly broken by the white locks he
had positioned behind his ears. He had the thin angular beginnings of a goatee, a wispy
teenage mustache and appropriately, forest green eyes. When he realized that his hood
was down he stopped, ran his fingers through his hair and put his hood back up. He sat
down on a root and scanned the underbrush for his prey. He spotted it, jumped up, and
started running again.
After about ten more minutes the man was in a tree, and the animal, a deer, was
catching its breath below. Suddenly a green blur dropped onto the animal’s back and
bludgeoned it to death with a polished staff. The man made a small fire, cooked, seasoned,
and ate, the venison as the cleaned the skin.
I really should have used the knife, he thought as he finished cleaning the skin and
started to fall asleep under the still warm deerskin blanket.

Chapter 6

“Sir,” a husky voice said, “Wake up sir.”
“What?” the man answered, getting up from his slumber.
“Sir, please stop gallivanting around the forest, you are very difficult to find.”
“That I am, Sine Nomen, that I am. So what exactly do you need?”
“You, one of our fellows has died.”
“Who?”
“We don’t know. He just came into camp a few nights ago and asked for a man
named Nature Paladin. As you know we are all paladins of nature, so logically we are
confused as to whom it might be.”
“And now you think it is me?” the man said, shuddering at the thought.
“That is about the long and short of it, sir.”
“Okay,” he said regretfully, ”Take me to him.” with that the man got up, and
followed Sine Nomen back to the forest camp of the Paladins. Once the man reached the
camp, he saw the dead man. He was just lying in the middle of the camp gathering flies.
“How dare you!” the man screamed at Sine as he gave him the back of his hand, “Leave a
dead man to rot!”
“We could not bury him, he has a package that he wont let go of.”
“Have you even tried to open it?”
“Yes, but he is holding on too tight.”
“you know nothing of the body do you?” the man said as he walked over to the dead man
and hit his wrist with his staff. There was a snap and the body relaxed its death grip on the
box, “Tendons, it is very simple.”
The man opened the box and found it contained a quarter-sized emerald and a leaf
bound together by a silvery thread. He pocketed the item, turned to the inhabitants of the
camp and said, “Sine Nomen, bury, and forget about this man. Sarn Cardil, you help Sine
Nomen. Afterwards, Sine Nomen, come to my hut.”
Three hours later, when the burial party returned to the camp, Sine Nomen went to
the man’s hut. The man had made some stew and some of the left over venison from the
last night. When the man noticed the presence of Sine Nomen, he said, “We have many
things to discuss, sit down.”
“Yes, Sir,” Sine Nomen replied.
“Which brings me to my first issue. Sine Nomen, what did I say my name was
when I came here seven years ago?”
“You never told us, we have always called you ‘Sir’” Sine Nomen shifted
uncomfortably in his chair, “Isn’t it ironic that you have no name and your right hand man,
me, has a name that literally means ‘Without a name?’”
“Really funny, yeah,” the man said off hand as he stared holes into Sine Nomen’s
eyes, as if probing his statements for truth. After a moment, his gaze softened, “Okay, I
believe you. Now the next order of business, what is this?” the man said, producing the
emerald trinket.
“It is just a symbol of authority, like a badge. Legend says Nature Paladin wore it,
but he died seven years ago, in the war of 17 armies.”
“I would assume that dead man was Nature Paladin, and I guess he wishes me as
his successor.” The man sighed, “I guess I must accept. Sine Nomen, make this ‘badge’
into an earring,” the man said, tossing over the trinket, ”That will be all.”
“Sir can I finish my dinner?”
“I said that will be all.”
“But can’t I-“
“Oh, for heaven’s sake, take it with you!” the man said, tossing a hunk of venison
at his comrade.
That night “Sir” had a dream he had been having for years. He was in the middle of
millions of people, they were all fighting each other. Eventually, a strong wind swept the
field and a man in green armor appeared in a flash of multicolored light. The newcomer
turned to a man in a brown trench coat, and they spoke for a moment. The man in green
then jumped up into the air and landed with his sword point down on “Sir’s” father. At
that moment a name, his true name, seemed to linger in front of his face but he couldn’t
read it. As his father died from the impaling blow, the name shattered. “Sir” awoke in a
cold sweat. “Gaspar,” he said then fell back asleep.
The next morning the man rushed over to Sine Nomen’s hut, he was met by Sine
who asked him what was the matter.
“Is it ready yet?” The youth replied impatiently.
“Yes Sir, ill go get it,” Sine said with a quick smile. He walked into the house and
came out a few moments later with a bundle of cloth. “Here,” He said.
“Thank you Sine.”
“You are most welcome,” Sine said as “Sir” turned to walk away.
When the man arrived back at his home he slowly unwrapped the package, and
slowly raising it from the wrapping clipping it onto his ear. Once the earring was entirely
on his ear, a voice sounded in his mind. It was a sweet voice like a mother soothing a baby
or the voice of someone that has found true happiness, ”Greetings Nature Paladin.”
“It is true I lead the paladins of this forest, but I am not and cannot be Nature
Paladin,” The boy responded in a formal tone that had just a hint of regret in it.
“Why do you try to avoid your destiny? Nature Paladin,” The voice said, stressing
the title.
“Seven years ago, my father and the rest of my family was murdered by Nature
Paladin. I cannot become what I despise.”
“You being at the battle sealed the fates of everyone on that battlefield. It is
useless to deny that truth, so you must live with it. Besides, the last Nature Paladin chose
you as his successor.”
“Who was the last Nature Paladin?”
“The one that murdered your family, but let it go, he is dead.”
“That may be true, and if it is, it must be the will of the world.”
“Exactly, now you are even thinking like a true paladin!”
“Okay, I am ready.”
“Behold!” the voice rung out in the boy’s head, “A new Nature Paladin has been
born! Hew shall be the dew, the sap, the sun, the wind, the very earth itself! He shall be
nature itself!”
The leaf on his ear started to take root in his skin, a calming wave washed over
him. In amazement, he beheld the transformation running over him. His eyes became an
even deeper green, and started giving off a beautiful glow.
His staff, which was leaning in the corner of his hut, sprung to his hands. As soon
as the staff touched the man’s hand, a thick vines wrapped around it converging at the top
where they held in place an emerald with a heart of sapphire. A blade and sheath appeared
at his side. It was a beautiful long sword ornately decorated with carvings of leaves and
vines. On the hilt were four jewels, an emerald, a diamond, an onyx, and a amethyst. The
sheath had designs on it that seemed to tell a story, but the boy couldn’t understand what.
Experimenting, the boy drew the blade and swung it. It sliced though the air with a rich
ring. The boy sheathed his sword and pointed at the ground, within seconds a sapling tree
was standing in the middle of his floor. his eyes widened in amazement as the sapling
budded and produced silver apples. He softly smiled.
“May your defeats be few, my paladin,” the soothing voice said again, and then it
was gone.

Chapter 7

On the top of a hill she kneels, mourning. The death of thousands of warriors in
the valley below. She does not cry, nor is she showing any emotion, but she is mourning.
The girl, barely seven is sitting at the base of a giant smoky astrological symbol. She is
Tristie, the Mystic of Jupiter.

*** Seven years later ***

Gaspar, and Sasuki were walking through the small island of Miamarto. The same
island the Shogun would be on 15,000 years into the future. The strangest thing was that
Miamato was currently in the arctic circle. The two men had been trudging for days
through the arctic wasteland.
“Gaspar, how much farther?” Sasaki asked.
“Just over the hill, we are going to the city of Oniopolis. Specifically we are going
to the Myrrian temple,” Gaspar replied.
“Why?”
“We need to speak to a Myrrite.”
“Who?”
“Brother Morat Evad, an old aquaintence.”
A few hours later they were in the town of Onipolis. They went and slept in the
local hotel overnight. In the morning they went up a long brick road to the Myrrian
temple.
“Greetings, traveler,” A tall man in a blue cloak said to them as they walked into
the temple. Monks rushed in and out, left and right constantly, not seeming to notice
anyone or anything in their ways. Sasaki was knocked to the ground several times by
passing monks. Gaspar, however simply stepped out of the way of each monk, not even
brushing one of their robes.
“How are you doing that?” Sasaki asked as he was knocked over again.
“I am the lord of time, I know where these men will be a decade from now, much
less a moment,” Gaspar said.
“These men aren’t very good monks, have they no respect for anything?” Sasaki
pleaded.
“They are myrrites, A myrrian monk has no religion or theology at all, they just
call themselves monks. They are actually scholars more concerned with their own minds to
worry about anyone else’s mind, or body,” Gaspar said as he led Sasaki by the hand down
a hallway, dodging monks as they went. Eventually, they stopped at a door. Gaspar gave a
large grin to Sasaki, “ Okay, here he is. Prepare yourself.”
“Is he that bad?” Sasaki asked.
“Just don’t argue with him and you will be fine. Argue with him and you won’t
win,” Gaspar whispered. Thump! Thump! Thump! Gaspar knocked on the door, “Morat!
Open up Morat! It is me Gaspar.”
“I’m coming, Gaspar!” a voice said from behind the door.
“Ah, so you will speak to me,” Gaspar replied.
“Of course I will, I disagreed with you. You are the one who has the prerogative
to be angry.”
“Untrue! You started it! But that is besides the issue, I need your help.”
“No, you started it, I recorded the incident in a book, which I can look up for
you.”
“Can you ever drop a subject?”
“Not unless I win, but I am being a rude host, come in,” Morat said as he opened
the heavy oak door, and admitted the two men. Morats room was a mid-sized library, with
a desk in one corner and a worn straw mattress by it.
“Okay to business, Morat. Are you familiar to the battle of the mystics?” Gaspar
asked, in a businesslike tone.
“Ah, the war of seventeen armies,” Morat said starting off to a shelf.
“No, the battle the mystics were having before the other ten armies showed up.”
“Oh that, give me a few days. I need to check the main library.”
“What are we to do for that much time?” Sasaki requested.
“I don’t care, go into town, meet people,” Morat said.
“Lets meet people,” Gaspar suggested.
“Anyone in particular?” Morat asked.
“The sixth gift, a girl by the name of Tristie.”