6/8/06
As I held her in my arms I knew. I knew the day would come when I would have to kill her. This innocent child of man born under the wrong star, to the wrong family, would some day stand between the survival of my world and utter destruction. I began to weep.
Her father, fool that he is, held up her brother to me. “I am going to name him pol and she will be poleen.” He hadn’t yet noticed the birth mark they each carried on their necks. He didn’t have the, truthview, the mystic sight of my people. I could see the truth of these children; their birth and lives were heralds of a great evil.
Jeradin would ask me years later, “why, then, Gideon did you not just slay them?” I looked at my life long friend, militant as he was and smiled a beleaguered smile. “My duty is to guard the wisdom of our people, as yours is to guard our power. I could have killed them easily. With a thought…but my instinct told me to let them choose. Choice is still a powerful deterrent of fate.” Perhaps I was the fool. Perhaps Jeradin was right, I should have killed them, before they grew up to kill untold millions.
