Disappear: Into Shadow

- CHAPTER FORTY TWO -

Down the slopes of the Taurus Mountains ran the Euphrates River. Descending across the wide reaching plains, its silt bearing tributaries had fertilized the lands below the mountain's heights for thousands of years. On those plains had blossomed the first signs of human civilization. From the peaks of the mountains he called home, Mithras overlooked the lands once called Mesopotamia. He was one of the Watchers who had escaped the great flood meant to wipe them and humanity from the world. Since the fateful days of that celestial ethnic cleansing, Mithras had grown increasingly withdrawn, choosing to watch from afar as civilizations grew, rose and fell.

He felt more comfortable with his hermit's existence. As a recluse, he could not bring harm to those he cared for. Over the course of time he had lost many dear to him by deaths both natural and otherwise. Trouble had a knack for finding him wherever he went. After the Flood and the murder of his family by the Angels of Wrath, the outcast Watcher vanished. Taking his knowledge with him, Mithras bestowed gifts on humanity in the hopes they would be put to good use. He watched over life where he could and hoped to survive until the balancing. Things would be different then.

Until the end times, he dared not associate with the other Watchers or mankind. He feared even a glimmer of his existence could bring a flood of any size and the world would lose more souls to interference. There are so very few of us left, he thought. Since becoming a recluse he hadn't seen any more of the disasters that once plagued his existence. There had been Mt. Olympus, Masada, not to mention Vesuvius, and the fall of Rome. How he had loved the hills outside that city. When Rome went, everything changed and a new world rose out of the old. The destruction of the Druid's island refuge on Yns Mon had been one of his last associations with other Watchers. Mithras stayed in those lush green islands, his name living on in the ruins left by Rome's passing. Many of Mithras' secrets trickled down to others and his temples remained, though abandoned or hidden. Those green mountains had been lovely too, until the Normans came and the entire island fell. There was always a consequence in his interacting with humans. The Angels and the Fallen would eventually track him down and people always died when they came.

If they looked for him here, how many more would die in their search? He knew he must leave soon and he didn't want to leave his old home and comfort. There were other mountains he could go to, but how many mountains were left? Sooner or later they would find him. Maybe one day he'd even let them, but not now. He laughed, thinking about what sort of day it would be. Until then, if the cost of saving lives meant he must exist alone, then so be it. Only after years of wandering the world had Mithras finally return to the lands he called home. He found it comforting, even though some days he felt like a refugee in his own land. Unwanted and hunted. At home yet homeless.

It's almost like being human, Mithras thought as he surveyed the aftermath of a battle that had raged on the plains below. He had been watching it all day. Two long columns of tanks, armoured personnel carriers, jeeps and trucks had inadvertently ran into each other in the early hours of the morning. The opposing sides reacted first with confusion, then savage resolve to wipe their enemies from the face of those plains. The ground was scorched, littered with the burned out hulks of wrecked war machines. Black plumes of smoke curled into the sky, carried on the winds blowing south and away from the mountains. The battle and its outcome had nothing to do with Mithras or his presence in the mountains, but the sight of such wanton destruction and death affected him. He began feeling the old emotions and burdens of his past creeping up from behind. He knew he wasn't responsible, yet he felt guilty. In the distance, floating on the winds, a solitary raven glided through the thermals over the battlefield.