Exacting Change

Exacting Change

Prologue

Two pairs of eyes stared at the board lying before them
taking in everything and nothing at once. Their concentration was so great that
it could no longer be felt, it just was. At first glance it appeared to be a
game board of some kind, perhaps something a little like chess. First glance
would not be wrong. It was a game, a game older than time itself, a game that
has been before there was. The board was vast and yet small in comparison to
the game itself, existing everywhere and nowhere at the same time. It was
complex. So much so that the rules could not be taught, they must be known. And
yet there was nothing simpler. Contradiction at its truest
form.

“The players appear to all be in place,” the first voice
said. It was a surprisingly light voice, considering all that was behind it.
And if one listened closely one could hear the dry humor that seemed laced
through it, as though every little irony it encountered amused it.

The eyes belonging to the voice that had not yet spoken
flicked up briefly. They were not normal eyes, a shade that seemed most
unnatural to the casual observer. Once again, the casual observer would not be
wrong. There was nothing about those glowing, azure eyes that one would call
normal, nor the one they belonged to. He was one of the rarest of all beings,
one of the most powerful Guardians in existence. Even still, his eyes were
nothing compared to the ones they gazed into.

His companion’s eyes held no pupil, iris, or white. Instead
they were all black, blanketed with pinpricks of light shining from their
depth. They were all the starry night sky, light within the dark, dark behind
the light. And while he and his kind were rare, the owner of these celestial
orbs was one of a kind.

The azure eyed one was the younger
of the pair, though not by much. That is, if time meant anything to the two
companions.

Finally, the azure eyes flicked down. “Indeed,” a deep,
smooth voice replied.

The other’s brow crinkled slightly. “You are worried,” the
first voice said, sounding a little surprised even to his own
ears.

“I always worry. It’s my nature.”

“I made your nature. I have never known you to worry so much
about an outcome like this.”

The other paused slightly. “An outcome has never mattered so
much to me before.”

A smile touched the eternal face of the first one, warm and
yet hinting at that ironic amusement that seemed ever present. A hand reached
out and settled on the other’s shoulder. “You have done well.”

“But is it enough?”

The first one sighed. “That is something that can never be
known, not until the outcome presents itself.”

“But what if it’s not?”

“Then we move from there.”

“But what if…”

“One night while I lay thinking here, some What-Ifs crawled
inside my ear. They danced and partied all night long and sang their little
‘What If’ song.”

The other paused at the interruption. “That was childish.
You used to quote great philosophers, now you’re quoting Shel
Silverstein?”

“One of the greatest of them all.”

The other rolled his strange eyes. His companion had a knack
for the absurd. Appropriate, all things considered. “I’m being silly, aren’t
I?”

“Yes. You know as well as I do that they can only be placed,
led to where they are. They must make the choices for themselves. But you have
done the best you could with the tasks I gave you. And you have done very well,
indeed.”

The other sighed and stared down at the board, ignoring his
companion’s amused and starry gaze in favor of making sure everything was truly
in place. Yes, things were arranged as best they could be. Now he would have to
just sit and see how they played it. A slight smile touched his lips. If all
went as he thought it would then those ‘What-ifs’ would be silenced forever.

Now, to roll the die…