It was like clockwork. Every time they came from you, then went and looted your home, beat up your house staff, and came to your living room to interrupt what you were doing. You’d fight with them. Sometimes, they’d overpower you and banish you for a little while - a couple of weeks at best. Give ‘em enough time to believe you were defeated and give you time to get everything back in order before the next assault came. Sometimes, you’d win. The mantle would pass on to the next person in line and you…made yourself scarce. The younger usually came after you next, and you didn’t want to end someone so young and inexperienced like that.
Today was that day. Your living room door was kicked in once more, and someone in a fancy outfit wielding an ancestral crossbow came bursting in, ready to do battle, and fulfill his destiny.
He was not expecting tea and biscuits, nor was he expecting a second seat to be set up. You looked at him warmly and offered a polite wave. “Hello,” you greeted him. “Come in, sit down. Stay a while.”
He lowered his crossbow. “…this…is not what I was told to expect,” he mumbled. “Is this a trick?”
“Your family has been pestering me for centuries,” you explained. “Every time one of you come, there’s a flair for the dramatic, we banter, and then we fight.” A yawn escaped you. “Unfortunately, I didn’t sleep well last night, so I’m trying something different.” You motioned to the seat you had set up for him. “Neutral ground. Please, sit.”
He slowly raised his crossbow again. “How do I know this is not a trick?”
“You don’t. For all you know, you’re going to sit down and a multitude of bad things will happen to you. You’ll have to rely on trusting me.” Again, you motioned. He hesitated, before approaching you and sitting down. His crossbow never lowered. “See? That wasn’t so bad.”
“No, it wasn’t. I’m still waiting for the other shoe to drop.” He looked at the tray of biscuits before him, as well as the brightly colored tea pot. “This wasn’t mentioned either.”
“No, I don’t think it would be. You are the first, after all.” You slid him a tea cup. “Help yourself. Try the chocolate chip ones.” You let him pour his own tea, which seemed to make things easier on him. “So, how much damage did you cause?”
The words stopped him in his tracks. “I…didn’t have to do a whole lot. Your minions were quite polite and guided me in the right way.” He picked up the cup, gave it a sniff, and took a sip. “I was expecting more of a workout.”
“Like I said, trying new things. I expect they were as confused with my instructions as you were of your trip here.” You picked up an almond biscuit and took a bite. “Cook’s been busy as well. Never is. Your family never travels through the kitchen.”
“You don’t say.” He took another sip. “You’re being a good host, so I’ll bite. What’s your angle?”
“Again, I didn’t sleep well. Your family usually expects a workout. Figured I’d give you a break this time.” You finished your snack off and leaned forward, resting your arms on your knees. “There is another reason, though.”
“Knew it.” He set his cup down. “Okay, let me hear it so we can get this done.”
“Well, it’s just some information I’m curious about.” You poured yourself a cup. “Which number are you?”
“Which one of your lineage are you? How many people have held that crossbow with the intent to use it against me?”
He paused for a moment as he went over his teachings. “…uh…I think I’m the 27th. We’ve been at this for 800 years.”
“841, to be precise.” You took a sip and let the warmth flow over you. “841 years of having to prepare for a fight every couple of decades. Your family loses, or I lose…the cycle continues on. You’re lucky, because you only have to remember what you need to. You die, and the responsibility gets passed on, right?” He nodded, knowing what you were talking about. “But me? I’m immortal. I have to deal with each and every incident. It wears me down a little. Not physically, mind you, but I can’t remember some of your kinsmen, even though we fought.”
He seemed to be taken aback at your admission. “I mean, some weren’t entirely exciting, I know, but-”
“Having someone wreck your summer home and try to kill you is something that makes you remember them. It’s a traumatic experience.” You drained your cup. “Yet…I can’t remember some of the people who assaulted me. More importantly, I can no longer remember why.” You set your cup down and enjoyed the moment of awkward silence. It was a bit of a stunner for him, and he was not shy about showing it. “You okay?”
“You are an abomination because of your immortality, and my family has been fighting you for centuries. You go against the natural order, because you keep coming back. We’re trying to stop that.” He raised his crossbow again. “And what do you mean this is your summer home?!”
“I mean this is where I come when I’m on vacation.” You started pouring another cup. “I do have a job, you know.” You heard a meow as a cat hopped onto your lap and curled up. You gave him a soft pet, causing him to purr.
He lowered his crossbow again, his eyes locked on the cat. “And…what is that?”
“This? Oh, this is my cat. Just as immortal as I am.” You scratched behind the wee thing’s ears. “Picked me, as a matter of fact.”
“No…I mean…” He fumbled with his words. “Your cat is adorable, but I meant 'what is your job?’. What do you do that gives you a chance to take time off?”
“Oh, that’s simple.” You waved your hand in a circle, and a scroll appeared before him. He knew enough to pick it up and give it a read. “I work with the Celestial Bureaucracy. That’s a copy of my license. I’m in charge of reincarnations for souls that have not had a chance to live up to their potential.” Your cat stretched and meowed, as if to agree with your statement. “It’s part of the reason why your family is entwined with me.”
“There’s about five souls that cycle. If someone is destined to fight, and they do not complete their task, they will eventually show up at my desk to be reborn. Sometimes, there will be multiples that go back. Sometimes, only one. These souls tend to take turns.” You sighed. “Unfortunately, I don’t get as much work as some of the others do. I don’t judge. I only find a place for you to go and try again.”
“Fascinating. So…who are we supposed to be fighting, then?”
“That’s an answer I don’t have.” Your cat rolled onto its back, exposing its belly to you. You rubbed his ears, not falling for that trap right now. “I ask, but I get told it’s not me.”
“How am I supposed to believe you? How do I know you’re not trying to avoid a fight and keep me from my duty?”
“Because I AM trying to avoid a fight. 841 years, remember?” He paused as he took in your words. “On top of my other responsibilities, it’s tiring.”
“…so what are you proposing?”
“Breaking the cycle. Specifically, I want to help you find what you’re supposed to be vanquishing and why.”
He rolled up the scroll. “My family has been at this for eight centuries. Likely, my kids will be the ninth. Are…are you saying that…?”
“I’m saying that, if we figure out what you’re supposed to be doing, we can give those kids a happy, peaceful life. If you’ll allow me to help.”
He pondered this quietly, before nodding. He seemed up for it. “I have a question before we begin, though.” You nodded, allowing him his question. He immediately pointed at your cat.