2020 Week 47

2020 Week 47

prompt: We are the tools of the gods. The instruments of Fate.

Something is different this time. I remember.

Usually we only remember snippets, or what’s relevant to our current task. But this time I remember everything.

I remember my last life: 80 years spent so that eventually a train would run 5 minutes late. I remember the one before that: so much shorter, with a violent end on the front lines — so that one could be saved. And the one before that, which took 3 of us, years of training, and sacrifices you wouldn’t believe. For such a small victory. Dozens of lives, reaching back into history. Each dimmer and less clear than the next.

I still don’t know how many of us there are, or how many lives I’ve lived. All I know is that we are put down here to do a job, to alter Fate. Sometimes we close off potential futures, sometimes we make room for others.

Most lives, I just have a feeling. I know what I’m supposed to do. What I Need to do. And once it is accomplished— well then nothing else much matters. Sometimes we live out a natural lifetime, sometimes we are quickly ushered back to await our next assignments. But either way, They put us down here to do a job for them.

This time though, I don’t have that feeling. I’m not sure what it is I’m supposed to do. Normally it is clear a couple decades in, but this time… I’m not sure. I remember everything though. I remember the rules, and as I write, it all becomes more clear.

They put us down here to change things. Because They cannot manifest or interfere on their own, They must use us. But there are only so many of us, and They all want to make different changes.

Their changes have been getting bigger recently. Fate used to be able to correct for them within a generation or two. And we used to be assured of a rest or a sabbatical in this world between jobs. But this life, it feels different.

Maybe that’s why I remember. The world is drifting further from where should be. They have been interfering too much.

I don’t know why I’m writing this all down, or even why I remember. I just feel compelled to. Like I Need to. Maybe if I write it down, one of the others will find it. Maybe they’ll be able to act differently. Maybe I’ll find it on my next life, and figure out what is going on. How to fix it.

Maybe…

It’s funny, I almost feel complete now. With so much work left to do, I am almost at peace. With a life time ahead of me. But I think I understand now.

We were the tools of the Gods. But now, I am an instrument of Fate.