We have become our own worst enemies. The cosmos’ new tyrants. And who remains, that can stop us now? —from the memoirs of Eld the Benevolent.

Eld expanded his consciousness through the tapestry that was life and searched once more for the Spark.

A special Spark. Elusive. Rare.

A Spark made remarkable not by the brightness of its light but, instead, by its very absence. Somewhere, somewhen, it had to exist.

Everything depended on it.

His search had spanned eons, and time was running out. He blew out a troubled breath. Matters progressed rapidly, and his course was irrevocable. Either he found the Spark, and quickly, or…or he failed. And the cosmos with him.

In near despair, Eld moved his hunt onwards to the next world. Once more, he flung out the net of his consciousness and probed for that distinctive spot of emptiness. His mind completing the weaves by rote, he sifted with practiced swiftness through Earth’s multitudes, searching…

Anticipating failure, he almost missed it. There. An anomaly. Wary of renewed disappointment, he fought down burgeoning hope, and pulling together the threads of his mind, rushed his reconstituted self to the one that had captured his interest…

✽✽✽

Jonas scowled fiercely as he watched the young street rat scurry into the shop. The waif—draped in cast-off rags, barefoot, and covered in grime—attempted to disguise his presence behind paying customers.

Jonas stepped forward, ready to expel the young thief, when by chance his gaze crossed the youngster’s, revealing the desperate hunger there.

Despite himself, he stopped.

Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author's preferred platform and support their work!

The boy—he must have been no older than five—stared with avid attention at the fruits lining the stall.

Jonas could not help but notice the waif’s skinny limbs and protruding bones, laid bare by malnutrition and starvation. His gaze lingered on the boy, weighing him as habitual cynicism fought impulsive empathy.

He hesitated.

Then cursing himself for a sentimental fool, Jonas turned away. In his moment of weakness, he decided to ignore the waif, pretending not to see the boy swipe the apples.

It is only a few apples, he told himself, not worth the trouble, really.

✽✽✽

In fascination, Eld watched the scene play out.

The boy was invisible to his sight—but not to Jonas. Looking through the shopkeeper’s eyes, Eld studied the youth intently. What small shoulders upon which to rest the fate of worlds, he thought sorrowfully.

Sudden doubt afflicted him. Was his course the right one? But he could not afford to baulk now. His path was set.

The child would serve, he decided. Had to serve. But first the boy needed to be prepared. Eld ran calculations through his mind, considering and discarding a dizzying array of probabilities. Eventually, he settled on a course and acted.

His ability to affect events on Earth was limited, but sometimes all it took was a nudge.

✽✽✽

At the fruit stall, seemingly of its own accord, an apple fell out of the pile, upsetting the stack’s delicate balance and provoking an avalanche. In the midst of pocketing a few more apples, the boy startled in surprise.

At the door, Alexis, Jonas’ son, turned his head at the disturbance and noticed the boy. He sprang into action, moving to apprehend the waif. “Stop, thief!”

Distracted by the apples’ strange behaviour, the boy was caught flat-footed. He had left thoughts of escape too late. Belatedly, he tried to scamper away but the rolling apples foiled him.

Before the boy managed more than a step, Alexis’ reaching hands snatched him close. Triumphantly, he crowed, “I got you, you little thief! You aren’t going anywhere.”

Silently observing, Jonas took a halting step forward, then stopped.

Another step. Stopped again.

Finally, throwing up his hands in self-disgust, he gave in to his pleading inner voice and moved to intervene.

✽✽✽

Eld had done what he could. Events had been set in motion. Now, he could only hope they played out as desired.

After all, even the gods were not infallible.