A Child Outside of Fate

Chapter ???:

She watched intensely at the 10 books that floated in front of Her, their pages quickly flipping simultaneously. Where the whites of Her eyes should be, endless black reigned, Her iris's a glowing golden halo, and Her pupils whiter than snow. She sat in an elegantly carved chair made from the dark woods of Everlaria, native to a timeline She had watched Him consume ages ago. The embroidered cushions painted pictures of snow capped mountains, luscious jungles, arid deserts, flowing rivers, and everything in between. Each setting was woven within the large visage of a clock face that wrapped around the edges of the cushion, its numbers slowly, but constantly rotating through the needlework.

As one book closed She set it aside with magic and pulled up another to take its place. Her ageless, timeless face noticed every detail in the Books of Chrono as She read them. Her luxurious dress, the outer layer, void of all colors, shimmered as the inside linings, a gold as vibrant as Her eyes, lightly illuminated the area around Her. She sat in emptiness, outside of space and time; outside of existence itself. The only furnishings were Her chair and desk, carved from the same dark wood and inlaid with ivory and gold filigree. Endless mountains of books stacked in perfect order around Her – The Books of Chrono.

She was the Chronologicer. Her job, to watch each timeline, infinite in count, and make sure what was recorded in the Books of Chrono held true. One single inconsistency in a book could cause all of existence to collapse in on itself annihilating everything without a trace; as if it was never there. Before the Books, there was nothing, and if the Books ever ended, then nothing would follow. She knew not how She came to be the Chronologicer, but She always had been, and always would be.

She could only intervene in the timelines under two circumstances. One, if She found a fault in the Books. Secondly, if Her existence was ever found out, or even theorized. Any semblance of Her needed to be struck out from the timelines. If anyone knew of Her, the risk it could pose to the Books of Chrono was immeasurable. People were fickle, and powers beyond them both enthralled and infuriated them.

There was only one being in all of existence that knew about Her — Him. He had many names, and He had none. He was everything and nothing. Her equal and opposite. He was there at the beginning as well. He always had been, and always would be, just like Her. Things were different back then, but now He only had one goal...to find Her, and to kill Her. He existed simultaneously in none of the timelines, and in every single one of them. Each one He conquered. Searching, looking, hunting, for a way to reach Her. It was only a matter of time before he would finally find Her, and She could do nothing to stop Him.

Many of the timelines fought against Him, but they all fell sooner or later. Handfuls of them fought valiantly, buying years, decades, centuries, some even millennia, but in the end — they all fell. It was disheartening to see so many great timelines and realms, with astonishing technological and magical advancements, and brave courageous heroes hold Him back for so long, only to watch them falter and fall. There was one thing that bothered Her though, no, it drove Her mad. In every single timeline, especially in those that fought against Him, a champion of His, a hero in His eyes, seemly appeared out of nowhere to turn the tides of battle and secure His victory. She had studied Book after Book after Book, and never once could find this champion's origin, yet, Her instincts did not say that it was an inconsistency to fix. That the Books were...flawed. No, somehow he belonged there. He was supposed to exist, but if not for this champion, He would be stopped.

She sat down another book and sighed, the air felt heavy as it left Her lungs. Another timeline, one that nearly killed Him, thwarted by this champion; or will be at least. They had yet to progress that far in their existence, but it was destined, there was no avoiding it. She closed her eyes and relaxed in Her chair. There had to be something She could do. For ages She sat here and watched Him hunt Her, watched Him consume timeline after timeline, slaughter countless, endless, beings. She slowly opened Her golden eyes and glared at the book She had just finished. There was fire in Her eyes. A fire that could not be quenched. What powers in the universe were above Her? Who was there to enforce these laws She innately felt within Her soul? What higher power could possibly sit back and watch all of these timelines, these realms, these lives, be ruined – and be content?

There was none. She was the end all be all. The only being that could police Her, was already trying to kill Her. She reopened the book in front of Her. She had enough of watching all of these souls suffer, of watching and doing nothing. To the void with Her laws. The pages stopped flipping through the air and the book settled down. She pulled Her quill out of the ink bottle and for the first time in all of history — made a stroke.