Title: Musings of an Ancient
Author: Nopporn Wongrassamee aka the Evil Author
EMail Address: EvilAuthor@aol.com
Archive: Anywhere and everywhere. Just tell me if you do.
Spoilers: Anything goes
Summary: One of Adam's friends is not what he appears to
Disclaimer: Characters and concepts belong to their
owners who I'm too lazy to list.
Once, WE were the masters of the universe.
We walked among countless worlds like gods. We played
with life we both found and created. We brought life to
lifeless planets. We took species - some sentient, some
not - and spread them across our dominion. We altered
them at our whim.
Evidence of our existance still exists to this day. Here
on Eternia alone, there are many examples. The most
evident is Castle Greyskull, but there are others. The
hybrids of human and other species for one. The artifacts
guarded by the Faceless One also comes to mind.
Our science and technology was so advanced that lesser
peoples called it "magic". Fragmentary knowledge of this
still exists on Eternia, too, as evidenced by the number
of magicians living on this world.
So, to paraphrase a poet of Earth, we strutted for a time
across the stage of the universe before retiring from the
limelight. Yes, I know I'm mixing my metaphors. But why
did we relinquish the stage for other players? Why, if we
were so powerful, did we depart? Why did we leave without
so much as leaving a proper name to call us by?
Some say we had evolved beyond such worldly concerns,
that we had achieved a higher state of being. Nonsense.
Evolution doesn't work that way. It's not a linear
progression. A successful species will inevitably branch
like a tree into a multitude of new species just as we
did. That's part of why no one today knows what we really
looked like or what called ourselves; we had become many
in both name and appearance.
Some say that we had discovered a threat so great, that
the best thing we could do was hide from it. That's also
nonsense. We're not Earthly ostriches (although I have a
second cousin who bears a remarkable resemblance to one).
If there were any such threat, running and hiding would
be utterly pointless. It would have been better to stay
and marshal our forces to fight.
Some say we fought a great war among ourselves and wiped
ourselves out. I point to the countless lifebearing
worlds still extent. Had we fought any such war, they
wouldn't still be there.
No, the real reason we decided to vanish was very simple.
We began to care.
We looked upon all these worlds we had created and
despaired. All the lesser species looked to us for
guidance, unable to make a decision of any import without
consulting us. So much so, that their own advancement was
retarded. We wanted them to mature, to grow up and become
very much our equals. But how could they? We occupied the
niche we wanted them to enter. There was nowhere for them
to grow into.
So we left. We retreated to worlds that were wholly our
own. These weren't just any worlds, mind you. They were
worlds turned inside out and wrapped around stars to
maximize living space. And because they so completely
englobed their suns, our worlds were perfectly hidden
without having to resort to exotic cloaking technologies.
Of all the worlds we left behind, only one even concieved
of the possibility, and that was a world that was
practically untouched by us. That's proof enough that we
were retarding the advancement ofthe lesser species.
Oh, we didn't completely leave. We hung around to observe
and watch. We disguised ourselves so that we could pass
among the lesser species without exciting comment. Our
disguises are so effective that even the artifacts we
left behind could not recognize us and alert their new
It's a good thing that Adam didn't choose me as his
companion. I doubt that I could have maintained the guise
of a bumbling, offworld sorcerer if he had. The power of
Greyskull focused on me would have exposed me for what I
"ORKO! What have you done?!"
Ah, I believe Man-At-Arms has discovered my latest
blunder. I wish I really wasn't a bumbling sorcerer, but
some dumb local predator ate my focusing device. Without
the wand to automate, I practically have to work the
cosmic forces manually. That's unheard of back home.
I hope that critter died of indigestion.