//------------------------------//
// Yup, saw that coming. 
// Story: Fate's Plaything 
// by Evergreen_shadow 
//------------------------------//

You ever have one of those days where nothing quite goes right? 

Missed your bus to school or work? Boss makes you work overtime because you incorrectly filed a single document? Your dog got run over and the guy gets the nerve to yell at you for not keeping him on a leash?  Yeah, I can relate. We all have those days.

Those days generally don't, however, end with you lying on your back in some remote desert in a pool of your own blood, riddled with shrapnel wounds and wondering which would be your last breath.

Funny, I knew something was off the moment we started this convoy. I just knew it. I've always had a sort of sixth sense about things, a subtle feeling of, "huh, how funny would it be if this happened?" I've always been able to guess what would happen several seconds before it did, from conversations to avoiding car collisions. My sense of the near future even saved my life on more than one occasion.

This was not one of those times. This was one of those, "I told you so, stupid," times. 

Because somehow, I knew we'd get hit. Just before we set out, I thought, "Huh, how funny would it be..." Sure enough, about an hour in, a barrage of RPGs broadsides out convoy. Most of us make it out of the Humvees alright, including me and a buddy of mine. 

Of course, right as we are clear of the burning truck, "Huh, wouldn't it be funny if..."

I looked up in the sky, and, against all odds, I noticed a tiny black dot silhouetted against the moon. I knew there was no way we'd survive if I did anything else. So, I minimized the overall damage, did the stupid thing, and grabbed my buddy by the neck of his flak vest and flung him behind me randomly with adrenaline enhanced strength. Hopefully, I can at least shield him from the worst of it.

A second and a half later, the blast catches me in the side and launches me against the side of the truck. I roll off and crumple in a heap beside the blackened crater. On the upside, I'm 96% sure that my friend is OK, since I tossed him clear over the nearest outcropping of rocks, shielding him from the mortar that dropped next to us. Thinking back to a lecture from an old EOD specialist, I vaguely remember that these things have a damage radius of about 150 feet. And a lethal radius of about 50. I had no more that 10 feet of clearance when that thing went off. There isn't a doubt in my mind that I am going to die. 

Resigned to this, I stare up at the stark white full moon in a cloudless night sky. I had never noticed before, but without the city lights, the night here was awash with more stars than I could even fathom. It's so beautiful, I can't help but cry, knowing I'd never see another night like this again.So very many things I'd miss now. Pristine night skies. The feel of an ocean breeze as I sit on rocky outcroppings, watching the turn off the tides. The hum of the city buzzing about me. The gentle laughter of friends.

The warm embrace of my beloved Tempest.

My heart skips a beat, and not because of shock, though that will probably follow soon enough. I'd told her I'd come home. I told her nothing would happen to me. After all, what could happen to an Air Force comm nerd setting up servers at the center of a well defended base? Guess I missed the part of the brief where I needed to be escorted with other key personnel to an outpost through known hostile territory.

I broke my promise. I swore to her and myself I wouldn't lie to her. And here I am, dying, breaking two promises at the same time. My face, caked with dirt and sand over congealed blood, now feels freshly wet as tears flow out of my eyes. the weight of the world bears down on me. I feel as though I'm being crushed, yet nothing lies against me. My own regret and sorrow at the terrible wrong I've done is now driving the last of my life out. A small spark of anger jumps up within me. What cruel fate was this? I cared nothing of my own life. Seeing her happy was what made everything I did worthwhile. Hearing this would crush her. The last thing I would ever do is make her sad. 

Vaguely, I perceive someone calling my name, but the sound is muted, distorted, as if I am underwater. I turn my head towards the sound. SrA Wolfe, my friend whom I threw clear of the blast, crawls toward me, face stricken. He reaches me, looking me over. His face becomes, if possible, even more anguished, and he turns, calling out, though I can't make out what he's saying anymore. Another figure enters my field of vision; the medic of the convoy stands over me, the professionalism of his post keeping his expression in check and his attendance to my condition quick and precise. It doesn't take him long. he steps back from me, shaking his head and saying something to Wolfe. Wolfe defiantly shakes his head, and yells at the medic. I can easily imagine him asking why he can't do anything for me. Through my misery, a small bit of my old cynical humor comes back.

I cough, and croak out, "Doctors patch you up. Medics just make you feel better when you die."

Wolfe whips his head towards me, shocked. He says something completely intelligible to me, though I'm guessing something along the lines of the dumbest question ever asked, "Are you ok?"

I just shake my head and reach up, grabbing his collar and letting gravity pull his head towards me. 

'W-Wolfe, do me a favor, w-would ya? Tell her I love her. Tell her, I'm s-sorry.... I-I'm s-sorry I... b-broke my prom... my p-prom..."

My breath hitches, my grip goes slack, and suddenly I'm falling away from Wolfe and the medic. Falling into darkness. Huh. If this was dying, it wasn't so bad after all. Albeit dark and lonely. Still, it was quiet and painless.

All of a sudden, I jerked to a halt, my fall abruptly ending, as if I reached the end of a bungee line, without the sudden rebound. I hung there for some time, in total void. Seconds or years, I could not guess. I wasn't even aware that time passed. I just waited.

"Hmm."

I started and looked around, started by the sudden noise in what was total nothingness. 

I tried to shout out, but no noise sounded.

"That... That can't be right..."

Looking around for the voice that seemed to emanate from everywhere, I suddenly noticed a patch of illumination. Not a source of light, just an illuminated area. And in that illuminated area floated a man. He was average of height, thin and pale, with high cheekbones, a thin, pointed chin, dark hair and monochromatic clothing, composed of black slacks and a black trench coat over a generic gray shirt. He was also barefoot for some reason. I suppose being within a void meant you didn't need shoes. But then, why wear clothes at all?

Most unique about this man were his eyes, which were a somber, dark blue, and held a weariness within them, balanced by an immeasurable amount of sympathy. The creases on his forehead and cheeks told of a man with a deep regret, though currently they were folded in a different way, more in line with deep thought leading to irritation as his eyes flitted between what appeared to be an iPad and an ornate hourglass.

I tried once again to speak, but, as before, my voice died before it left my mouth, even though I continued to try to speak. This time, however, he seemed to take notice of me.

"I'm sorry my dear boy, it's been so long since someone has come to THIS realm, I forgot that there is no sound but what I say. That is, unless I will it. Please, do speak."

Not feeling any different, I speak out.

"Who are you?"I frown at my voice; it sounds hollow and washed out, like an emotionless murmur from across a snowy field, yet the man seems to hear me fine. He chuckles lightly.

"Heh, not exactly the most polite thing to do, ask a man his identity within his realm without identifying yourself first. That could get you into trouble, dear boy." I open my mouth to apologize, realizing my rudeness at once, though somewhat irritated at this response, seeing how I DID just die, but the man forestalls me with a raised hand.

"Not to worry dear boy. You've been through a lot, so I wont fault you your error. In any event, I know who you are, so no need to identify yourself. Now to introduce myself. I am the master of atrophy, the bringer of the end. I am the reaper, and you are my harvest. I am the keeper of souls. I am Death."

Now, any other time, like if I had lain in a hospital bed the day before, or if I was in a car wreck, I would have probably denied it. There's no way I could have died, surely there's been a mistake? But, seeing as how I've recently been blown up and contemplated the fact that I was dying at the time, it doesn't really surprise me at all that I'm meeting Death himself, as it were. And considering that I had just saved my buddy, been blown up, realized that I broke a promise (well, technically two) to my fiancé, contemplated my death, died in earnest and floated through Death's own realm, all in what seemed to be no more than 10 minutes, I do the only  thing that made sense.

Death for his part, seems utterly nonplussed at my wild swings between hysterical laughter and hysterical sobs. Not that I take any notice. I'm a little too busy grappling with the fact that I was am and truly dead. I mean, what the actual hell man? I am dead, there is nothing I can do about it, and I don't know what I did to deserve it! So I laugh. Like a madman. And cry. Like some overly emotional Team Jacob fangirl at the end of Eclipse (don't ask me how I know this...) And the whole time, Death is... Standing..? Floating...? I don't know, existing there, looking like this is the first time someone has gone completely batshit at the fact that they had just died.However, he doesn't interrupt me. He just stands by as I work it out of my system. Eventually, my laughter subsides and my sobs jerk to a halt, and I take deep, steadying breaths to calm myself. 

"Well now, feeling better, dear boy?" Death asks, concerned.

"Would you?" I respond dully.

"I suppose not," he sighs. He looks down at his tablet. "Still though..."

"Still what?" I ask. "What did you mean before, when you said 'That can't be right?'"

"Well, not to be cliche or anything, but, in all honesty, it wasn't your time."You know, I had always wondered what it would be like to be frozen in a block of ice. I think it would be similar to how I feel now, because suddenly I can't breath, I can't move, I can't even think.

It wasn't your time. It wasn't your time. IT WASN'T YOUR TIME. 

These words flash through my mind, over and over, growing steadily louder. The ramifications of this slam into me, and if I could have, I'd have staggered away from Death. Had my heart have still been beating, I'm certain it would have skipped, and the color would have drained from my face.

As the echos grow in volume and number, I feel a writhing sense of... something rising with in me. It churns and grows as the echos of my unjust fate near a crescendo in my mind. 

And all of that horrible feeling releases itself all at once, and I realize what it is.

Anger.

Pure, raw, unbridled, uninhibited, unrelenting fury.

For a moment, my lungs remained locked, preventing me from giving voice to my anger. Then something clicks, and I expel my pent-up breath in nothing more or less than a primal scream of animal rage. I curl in on myself, and I scream. My fists clench until my nails pierce my skin and my knuckle crack. I rage and scream for some time, then all at once, round on Death, who, for some reason, looks genuinely frightened, like he was actually scared of me.

As well he should be.

I catch myself at the thought that echoed in my mind. Death looks shocked and relieved
that I stopped my rage, but I don't care. I catch myself at that thought, because it wasn't my thought.  It was completely alien. Not the, "I have no clue where that came from," alien. The, "that wasn't my voice or thought pattern," alien. However, something about it rang a dim bell, as though I should remember it from somewhere.

Shocked by this perturbing sequence of events, my anger subsides somewhat. Death notices, and approaches me tentatively. He places a thin, long-fingered hand on my shoulder. However, far from the grave-cold touch I expect from Death himself, it is actually surpisingly warm. More than that, a feeling of calm and reassurance seems to flow from it, somehow relieving my anger and leaving me with my first sense of serenity in a long time. 

Well, not quite total serenity. I bow my head to Death.

"I'm sorry. Truly I am.  I shoudln't have lost my head like that. Everything just welled up, and I couldn't control it. Thank you for whatever it was you did. It definitely helped."

Death smiled, and nodded in acceptance of my words.

"My dear boy, you aren't the first to lose your head, metaphorically or otherwise, when you met me. Nor, do I very much doubt, shall you be the last. Death, for humans, is a shocking thing. Nothing in life could prepare you for it, and so you couldn't know how to deal with it. Actually, there is no correct way, for each person is different. I find it is easier in the transitional period to let people deal with it as they will, rather than demand silly tributes or rituals that the old Deaths have."

...Wait, what?

"But that is neither here nor there. For now, we should figure out how to go forward with this..."

"What do you mean?" I ask. "Can't you just, you know, put me back, or something?"

"Oh dear, no," he responds, looking over his tablet. "If I could do that, then I would have done so as soon as you arrived in my realm. No one has ever done that, you see, at least not during my reign as Death. There are records of it happening in ages past, but those are few and far between, and are just that: records of appearances in the Void. But no past Death has ever written down why, or what happened after."

"So, you don't know what to do?"

"No," he replies. "But I know people who might. Come with me."

"Uh..." I hesitate. Death grasps my hand, surprising me again with his warm grip. "Come with you? How am I-"

"-supposed to do that?" I finish as the Void suddenly transforms, instantaneously replaced with a warm, sunlit forest clearing at noon. Everything looks more alive than anything I'd ever seen on Earth. The very air seemed to breathe. Far from the calm nothingness of the Void, this place was almost electrifying.

Contemplating this, I failed to notice we had been floating until I touch down on the ground. The grass seems to brush against my boots with its own will, and a plethora of insects, rodents, and creatures I have no name for scurry away from the spot I landed on. Death continues to float, and the grass seems to shy away from him. Before us in the middle of the clearing stood several larger creatures that were similar to elk, but different, having a much stronger musculature, six legs, two-clawed hooves, and bright, intelligent green eyes. In their midst stood a short woman, wearing what could only be described as a fasionista's nightmare. Half her head was shaved and colored in leopard spots, the other was comprised of wild streams of vivid, multicolored hair. As impossible as it sounds, it looked completely natural. She wore bright, eye catching clothing. Once again, this person's eyes were striking. One was a deep, chocolate brown, the other was a yellow only ever seen in wolves and cats, and had a slit pupil. On her face is the biggest, warmest, most genuine grin I have ever seen, anywhere.

<i>Huh, wouldnt it be funny if...</i>

"Life..." I say with reverence. 

"Now, how did you just guess?" she asked. Her voice is sweet and bright, and holds an accent that I can't quite place, yet seems intimately familiar to me. Her words seem to add to the already vibrant energy of this place. "Yes, I am Life. And you are Garth Maelstrom. Welcome to my realm. And hello to you, dear brother," she adds, turning to Death.

Death smiles and bows.

"Sister. It's been too long."

"...Bwuh!?"

Life and Death, polar opposites, turn to me, Life with an animated expression of befuddlement, Death with mild amusement.

"Dear boy, you've recently been blown up, died, and met the current incarnations of Life and Death, and you have no response to the fact that we are siblings other than 'Bwuh?'"

I take the hint and pick my jaw off the floor, quickly closing my mouth. Life laughs brightly at my no doubt comical expression, and I can't help but laugh too. Even Death seems to brighten and gain color as he smiles at the sound, which sounds like a mix of dogs barking, birds chirping, and many small streams bubbling over rocks in a gentle melody more pleasing than any I have ever heard.

"So, what brings my brother and one of his own mortal agents to my realm?" She asks, sobering slightly as she regards us both.

"One of his mortal agents, ma'am?" I ask, confused.

"You are a soldier. Even if you are primarily a technician, your work contributes to my brothers purpose." She says evenly. Noticing the sudden misgivings on my face, she continues, "No need for worry. Death is essential. Without it, life cannot continue, for if the old endures, how would the new be brought forth? Oh, and none of this silly ma'am nonsense. Do look like the kind of person that wants to be called ma'am?"

"Well, uh..." I hesitate, an awkward smile breaking through my already well stressed face. "No I can't say you do. But its a matter of habit-"

"-Military training and all." She finishes for me. "And even before that you always called people sir or ma'am."

"How-"

"I made you. I may not be Fate, but I know you, perhaps better than you know yourself."I frown and look away. If she knows me so well, then she knows...A small, soft hand places itself on my shoulder. Like Death, it is warm. Unlike his, the energy that flows from it invigorates me, and cleanses my shame at my own failings and shortcomings.

"Do not let it trouble you. Like all my children, I accept you and everything about you. Your ups and your downs, your pride and your shame, your loves and your hates and your fears. All are uniquely yours and are precious. You are you, and you should be proud of that simple fact."

She sounds like the mother I always wanted. Unbidden, one of my knees collapses. Through everything that has happened so for, the fact that I am dead lingers in my mind. Coupled with my recent experiences, I fall to the ground, bracing on my hands and knees, feeling spent, physically, mentally, emotionally. 

Life drops down to her own knees, gently lifts me from my braced position, and pulls me into a hug that comforts me almost as much as Tempest's had. Almost, but not quite.She says nothing, only holds me untill a modicum of composure returns to me. Once it does, I rise gently, her arms falling off me, and give her a grateful smile.

"Thank you, Life. I... Really needed that. A lot." 

"Not a problem. We all go through those times. Sometimes, the best help is a hug."

"Normally, I wouldn't agree with you, but you seem to have proven me wrong," I say dryly. Death smiles, as if in agreement, though with what part of my statment I can't say. "Back on track, we are here, because, from what Death has told me, I should NOT be here. That I wasn't supposed to die when I did, and that you could possibly help me get back."

Life looks surprised and shocked. "Death was wrong about someones time!? My word, that hasn't happened since... Well, never during his reign! And he was doing so well! He was looking to topple Anubis and Osiris for longest streak of unforeseeable deaths!"

"Oh gracious, I'd forgotten about that," said Death with sudden consternation. His eyes flitted down to his tablet, and he flicked his hands over it feverishly. "Let's see, their reign was about 1000 years, as usual, with 826 years free of unforseen deaths. I haven't had one since I started, you being the first," Death said with an exasperated look at me. "And I started in... Blasted new Gregorian calendar... 1187 and lets see," he rambles a bit as he looks over at his  floating hourglass. "So... with that... ARGH! BLAST IT ALL!"

"HAH! I WIN THE BET!" Life whoops with glee as Death crumbles, hands flying to cover 
his face as he groans, sinking to the ground below. His tablet and hourglass clatter 
against the trees as they fly from his hands. The grass around him seems to lose its 
color and wither at his touch. Life, meanwhile is busy dancing jumping around the 
meadow with the strange elk, chanting, "I won, I won, I won, I won!" 

"Yes, but that means Fate lost." Death said. He lowers arms and rises off the ground again, which immediately regains its former vibrance and vitality. The same cannot be said for Death. "And you know how touchy she gets when she's wrong."

Life quite literally stops  mid jump,  arms still raised over her head in victory, as her face seems to pale slightly. However, this sudden shift in her behavior quickly recedes.

"Well, she can get over it. It's about time she lost."

"What are you two talking about?"

"Oh, nothing dear boy," Death responded. "We often get into disputes and disagreements. Rather than resorting to altercations of a more disruptive nature, we generally let things work themselves out, betting on the outcomes. Fate almost always wins of course, but there are always times when she is wrong."

"Fate can be wrong? And what kind of things do deities bet?"

"Not deities," Life said with a wry smile. "None of us are deities. There are no deities, although we are the closest things to them. We are embodiments of something, like Life, Fate, Death, Luck and Thought. We each have our own realm and sphere of influence. But out powers are not infinite, our influence not absolute."

"And," Death adds, "you actually haven't met Fate, so you wouldn't know. But while she dictates the movement of the world, a lot of what she does is actually guess-work. Exceptionally educated, and usually extremely accurate guess-work, but guess-work all the same."

"And as for what we would bet," Life finished, answering my other question, "I'm not entirely sure you'd understand. There are some things beyond mortal comprehension, I'm afraid. The moments of the cosmos, the subtle echo of those movements, and the responses of other echos to every other echo are delicately balanced. If we wished, we could influence these movements with a new echo, one that would work in favor with our own realm, generating a sudden burst of new life, or massive cataclysm, for example. However, each of us benefits from each other's actions, since each of us is intimately tied to the other. Where a cataclysm takes place, new life would spring to fill the Void. Where new life arises, an older, less adaptable life would die, to make way for the new."

"I think I understand."

"No, I'm afraid you don't," Death states.  "What Life gave you was an extraordinarily simplified version." Reaching out, he makes a waving gesture, and his all but forgotten tablet and hourglass fly towards him.

Tablet in hand, he floats toward me. Floating it before him, he presents its screen to me.

"If you like, you may look. This will show you a bit of what we truly do."

Curious, I lean in, and look over the tablet. To my confusion, it seems empty, a blank white screen. Yet, as I look at it, comprehension seems to flood into me. Meaning flows from the blank screen into my mind. Too much meaning. It all seems to blur together, yet remains perfectly comprehensible. A dull throb develops at my temples, my vision begins to blur slightly, and my ears begin to ring. Yet the intimate knowledge of the workings of Death, and his ties to all other spheres of influence, doesn't cease. I feel myself becoming buried under the tide of knowledge and power rushing over me.

After what seems like an eternity, I tear my eyes away from the screen, yet the knowledge remains. I gasp for breath, realizing I haven't breathed since I looked at the tablet. As I breath, my vision begins to correct, but the throbbing headache remains, and the ringing of my ears continues.

"Well, my dear boy, I can honestly say I'm impressed," Death said. He reaches down and gently lifts me to my feet. I realize that I had ended up on my back when I wrenched myself from the rushing flow of understanding.

"Impressed?" I inquire blearily.

"Oh yes indeed," Life interjected. "Few if any mortals would be able to have stared at a Font of Knowledge for that long. Fewer still would have remained stable afterwards. However, even looking at it for as long as you did, you only understand an infinitely tiny speck of the cosmos, and most of that is of Death's power and influence. Still, you are something special, child."

"So does that mean you'll help me?" I ask, hopeful that perhaps they would.

Life's ever-present smile, a source of encouragement and support for me this entire time, falters. She recovers it, but it becomes a sad, apologetic smile, and my still heart immediately falls.

"Oh how I wish I could, dear boy... But you see, it is my power to seed new life in the cosmos. I cannot replant a life lost."

My heart drops even more at her words, but my emotions are spent by this point. All I can do is look away, my vision blurring once more.

"Sister," Death said, "I know that Life and Death are fair in all respects, but I cannot help but feel there is something more at work here. This boy does not deserve the destiny he was dealt, and I haven't scheduled his death for a further 82 years, 7 months, 22 days, 9 hours and 44 minutes."

Beneath my sorrow, I feel some slight horror, and more than a little indignation at his words.  Give a guy a little doubt here, Death. 

"Death," life responded, pinching the bridge of her nose, "you understand the metaphysical ramifications of what you're asking as well as I do. Returning him to life directly would cause a new echo in the world, and I'm not entirely sure what it would cause. Ignoring that, a direct infusion would grievously damage his body, mind, and spirit, perhaps beyond repair. That is not a life I would wish for anyone."

"Still," she continues, looking at me, then pulling her own tablet from seemingly nowhere, "I fear you are right, Death. This whole situation seems off. We can at least keep his physical self comatose as we search for a solution. Perhaps we should consult Fate."

"Sister, you know we can't take a mortal to her realm," Death says with more than a little concern. "The weight of her influence would crush him."

"You're right," she responds "but we can always bring her here!"

"What? No wait!

Heedless of Death's words, Life raises her hands, her tablet vanishing, and claps them together.

Instantly, Life's realm seems to stop. Even the air seems locked in place. I choke somewhat as the air in my lungs freezes. Between Life and Death, a new figure appeares. This woman is shorter than life, and about as opposite her in appearance as possible. Her clothing is conservative to the extreme, somewhere between a private school uniform and a secretary suit, all a dark gray in color, except for a white undershirt and primary red tie and black shoes. Her hair is styled in a short bob, and is pitch black. Her expression is one of utter boredom. Her eyes are as different from Life and Death's as possible. They are dull gray and completely lifeless, without pity or mercy, but also without cruelty. They were a void of utter numbness, and were infinitely more frightening than the entirety of Death's realm.

"I was beginning to wonder if I miscalculated," Fate said. A chill creeps down my spine at her voice, because of it's total lack of passion and the fact that it echos with a hollow quality, as though from the end of a lifeless cavern. "I've been waiting so long for you to call me that I was beginning to doubt myself."

Life grins, seemingly oblivious to the frightening presence of Fate.

"Well, you did miscalculate something. I won our bet! Death missed out on his 826 year streak!"

Though Fates change of expression is minimal, a slight furrow in her brow, the change in the atmosphere is palpable. The air feels charged as though with lightning, and a metallic taste fills my mouth.

"Well, that is unfortunate. I'm sorry to hear that, Death," Fate responds, sounding irritated rather than sympathetic. 

Death simply hunches over, mumbling something along the lines of, "not really important." Fate ignores this, turning to a rather smug looking Life.

"Well?" Life says, with an insufferable note in her voice. "Our bargain?"

Fate frowns infinitesimally. "Very well, dear sister."

Fate waves a hand negligibly. I feel rather than see a wave of power wash over me, and can't help but wonder if this was one of the echos the embodiments were talking about.

"Now, I know that wasn't what you called me here for. I'm curious as to why you two called me here."

"You mean you don't know?" Death asks incredulously.

"Brother, we just proved my knowledge is not infallible," Fate says irritably. Life just grins. "And if you must know, I've been trying to determine what this would be about for the last 482 years, though recent event have narrowed down my theories."

"Well, it's about this young man here." Death says with a motion towards me.

Fate seems to notice me for the first time. She walks over to me, and looks me over with the diligence of a military training instructor. Her eyes dart over me, taking in everything about me. Her frown and beetled brow reappear.

"Most interesting..."

She then reaches out and touches me on the forehead with a single finger. True to form, her touch is nothing like her sibling. It is cold as ice and foreboding, and a sense of doom falls upon me. I stiffen at the touch, and await my own judgement. 

After a second, she lowers her hand and backs away, seemingly surprised.

"Well, that is indeed most interesting."

"What is it, sister?" Life asks, a mild look of concern coming to her ever-present grin.

"Well, it seems we have a Fatetouched on our hands."

Life and Death wear what have to be the most completely blank look I have ever seen. Better than the poker face meme.

"I forgot that wasn't free knowledge," Fate says. "No helping it now, I suppose."

"Excuse me, Miss Fate?" I say, speaking for the first time in minutes and somewhat tripping on my words. "What do you mean by Fatetouched?"

"Well, he can speak after all." Fate says with what I can only guess is amusement. "Well, to explain Fatetouched, I'll have to explain a bit how my influence works. You see, most life in the world is born with a set purpose, a final destiny that they will attain. One of my jobs is to calculate these final destinations and ensure that these come to pass by moving and altering the Fatestrands. However, as one might guess, this becomes rather dull after a while. So a Fate can, at any given time, touch a new life entering the cosmos and completely remove them from Fate's influence. These are Fatetouched, bound by no destiny, free to shape the world they live in."

"We Fates do this primarily for entertainment purposes, but it is a double-edged blade. For, in addition to being in total control of their own fate, they may also alter the fate of others with their choices and actions. This can have unforseen and potentially disastrous consequences for a Fate, but it keeps things interesting and ensures the cycle of history breaks periodically to avoid stagnation. It also tests our abilities as Fates to keep control over the threads as they break or strengthen."

"How many of these Fatetouched have you made during your time as Fate?" Death asks warily.

Fate smiles ever so slightly. "This boy is my 16th."

"So, I'm nothing more than your plaything," I say, irritably.

"Oh not at all. Well, to a degree. But you are more than that. Only you can decide how much more."

Death ponders this as Fate continues.

"Still, why are you here, boy? No living mortal should be in the Realms of the Embodiments."

"Well, I suppose that's the kicker, Miss Fate. I'm not a living mortal anymore. I died not too long ago, saving a friend from a mortar round."

"And robbing me of a planned death I might add..." Death grumbled.

"Death and Life found it strange and thought I should be returned to the my body, but they say that they can't do it because of metaphysical reasons... Or something of that nature..."

"Well, yes, that is most strange. You aren't exactly the person that I would think would sacrifice themselves for another's sake. However, they are also right in that a direct return would have a number of ramifications that would prevent a safe transition, both for you and the cosmos. Balance must be maintained. Fortunately, we can solve this."

"You can!?" I ask, excitedly, feeling hope return to me.

"Yes, we can. I alone can't accomplish this, but we may be able to correct this. It will take some effort on your part though."

"I'll do it, whatever it takes, I'll get it done!"

"So eager. That's good. Mind your eagerness doesn't get you into trouble."

"Sister, what are you planning?" Death asks, raising an eyebrow at Fate. Fate gives him a significant look, and I get the feeling that more information is passing between them than words alone. Life, too seems aware of the exchange, and a broad grin slowly stretches her features. Death's eyes widen as Fate smiles. "Oh surely not sister! You can't be serious!"

"I can and I am." Fate says as Life laughs heartily. 

"Oh, I love it! And it's perfect! It will accomplish much with a single action!" Life exclaims with glee.

Death just shakes his head.

"I don't like this, a lot could happen that would ruin your plan."

"Yes, but that is what makes it entertaining," Fate says. "Besides, you have no better solution, so there is no reason to argue with it. It's the only way to get him back where he needs to be."

Death has no response to this.

I meanwhile, stand here utterly bewildered by their nonsensical conversation, feeling completely excluded from my own fate.

Fate finally turns to me.

"Well, boy, we have a consensus. We will be putting your physical body back on Earth into a temporary comatose state until you can return to it. In the meantime, you will be sent to a different world. This world is similar to your own, yet different in many respects. Most importantly, it contains the solution you seek to return you your body. However, there are many paths and dangers that would divert you from what you seek. Take care not to lose yourself. Also, bear in mind this: exactly one year from your arrival in this world, your old body will die in earnest and you will be unable to return to it. We will allow you to live the remainder of your life in this world if you so choose if this happens, but You will never be able to see your friends and family on Earth again. Lastly, this solution is the most elegant we could come up with, but it will still require a cost from you. A cost that must be paid, or you will not be able to return."

"Also," Death adds, "try not to die. I'm afraid the rules of Life, Death, and Fate are different in this world than they are in your part of the cosmos. If you die there, you die in earnest. I will not be able to help you."

"One final thing," Life adds, as Fate raises her hands before her, conjuring a sheet of energy that completely obscures her from me. "Do you wish to retain your old body in this new world, or start over as one of its inhabitants. I assure you that once you return you will be put back in your old body good as new, but becoming one of this worlds being will help make the transition easier."

I glance over my body, which, I finally realize without any concern, is completely naked. It is the exact way I had left it, which is to say, toned and muscular, after a long time spent getting it into shape from the chubby boy I used to be. I am quite proud of that fact.

"I'd like to stay myself." I state. "I put a lot of work into who I am, and I don't want that to go to waste."

"And you should be proud of your accomplishment," Life replies with a warm smile, then waves her hands in front of me. "Very well, it is done. Now, step through the portal."

I turn, and look at the sheet of crackling blue energy. Swallowing my considerable misgivings, I steel myself and walk through. I feel as though I walk through a sheet of water, and once again I am surrounded by blackness, only this time, I feel like I am rushing through space faster than humanly possible. Lights seem to streak past and a thousand voices seem to whisper in my mind. As I zip towards a particularly bright light, Fate's voice sounds once again in my mind.

"Oh, if and when you see Celly, give her our greetings."

The singular light rushes up to meet me. I feel an impact and am aware of nothing more for a time.