A Life-Span: Part One

by Jen

The old man sighed and glanced again at his crystal shard. The picture it was showing was that of a short, rough and tumble man, hardened by years of life, many he could not remember. Right now, the mutant known as Wolverine, the name and costume the man Logan hides beneath, was fighting a ferocious battle with another costumed villain. The Watcher had lost track of who this one was.

The adjoining crystal showed a woman who, while the same age as the man, looked to be in her early twenties. She had lived through just as much turmoil and hate as Logan, yet you could see none of the pain in her smile. She was approaching the home of one Professor Xavier, intent on talking to him about her growing powers. Her name is Jess Llaved, an orphan raised by a group of Gypsies.

"Master?" a young voice asked.

The Shadow turned to one of his many pupils, this one being a 16-year-old girl. Her white robes were bunched around her legs as she walked through the 'Scope'.

"Yes, Cassandra?"

"Are you watching over Logan again?"

"Yes, my child."

"Why?"

He hesitated, and then decided that it was time for her to know the whole reason she was here.

"Come," he said, beckoning. He pointed to the many crystal shards scattered throughout the 'Scope'. In each was a vision of another person.

"Do you know what those are?"

"I know that Guardians watch them. Who are they, Master?"

"They, Cassandra, are Immortals. We, the Guardians, are assigned one each. For example, Velopa is in charge of one Sam Gurthie, though the lad will never know it, unless the time comes."

Cassandra wandered for a time, touching the shards and feeling the warmth they put off. It reminded her of her home world, a land that never saw the night, and winter never reared her head. It is a world forgot, a world misplaced among worlds. And in its misplacing, it left a small child adrift, only to be found once more by a civilization known only to itself.

She stopped in front of Logan's and Jess' crystals. She blinked. For a moment, just a moment, it had seemed like they had been linked, but it was gone.

"Master, there's something odd with these two."

He smiled, pleased with her Sight. 'So,' he thought to himself, 'she is one of us.' "Very perceptive, child. These two are the oldest of the Immortals, and are soul-bound. They have lived almost as long as the monster Apocalypse himself, born to negate the evil."

"But why aren't they together?"

"Every life-span, they forget. And start again, only to drift together. It is inevitable. They were bound by forces beyond their control."

"I've seen you manipulate this crystal's, Master. What else can you see?"

"Their pasts. Their presents. The future, however, is shielded from us. For if we were to find out the future, there are those among us who would strive to change it to their needs."

"So, you can see how they interact over the years?"

"Yes."

"Can I?" She turned to the Watcher with bright eyes, for once truly intrigued with the goings on of her adopted people. "They interest me, Master. There's something about them ...."

He nodded. "Just think of what you want to see and it will show you. I'll leave you now, my child. Peace and happiness."

She mumbled the saying, and was again transfixed by the two crystal shards. 'What do I want to see?' she asked herself, excitement over-running her in her. 'Pirates.'

Suddenly, a golden light shone from the crystals, and for a moment, Cassandra was momentarily blinded. When the light subsided, the crystals had merged and formed one large shard. There was an image of a dock, and of Jess in pirate's clothing. She became lost in the 'story'.

*****

As Jess followed her charge, the Lady Rosa Média, along the docks she ignored the looks she was getting.

Where she comes from, a woman in men's clothing was far from out of the ordinary. Here, in the city of Wakanda ({Note: The places aren't real. :)}), things were different.

Her hand, resting upon the hilt of her sword, discouraged any real trouble from the natives.

Jess sighed and sped up to catch Rosa. She, being a Lord's eldest daughter, had told Jess that she had wanted to see how 'commoners' lived and had dragged her down to the piers.

"My lady," Jess said, coming along side of her, "stay close. There are more dangers here than meets the eye."

Rosa rolled her eyes but, luckily, obeyed the warning.

As they walked along, Jess let the sun relax her. The smell of the sea, mingled with odors of dead fish, sweat, perfume, and flowers, invaded every orifice of her body. It tugged her down that hallway of forgotten memories.

Memories of deceased family, of friends long gone, of a childhood murdered in it's prime.

An excited voice yanked Jess cruelly out of the past.

"Jess! Ribbons!" Rosa squealed, looking through the vendor's wares.

Seeing as there were no immediate danger, Jess leaned against the booth and looked around.

People have always fascinated her. She enjoyed studying her fellow man, enjoying the quirks they thought were hidden under an air of money, intrigue, clothes, and appearance.

As she watched an old man, back bent with age and hands gnarled from work, a group of people caught her attention.

It was a group of five men dressed in regular seaman attire, walking towards the far side of the docks. But the person who caught her attention the most was the man who trailed slightly behind his companions.

Though he was last, this man conveyed anything but being a follower. He fairly radiated confidence.

'He's almost as short as I am,' Jess thought absently, feeling as she should know his name. His hair was odd, sweeping up into points. The sun caught and played in its blackness, shining in the mid-day sun. Because of the angle Jess was in, his face was wrapped in shadows, as though a veil had been lowered.

He too was dressed in simple sailor garb: a white shirt, opened as to show the chest, tucked into a pair of black pants, and complete with a pair of black boots.

Suddenly, he stopped, and .... sniffed the air? Jess shook her head. 'Gotta get more sleep.'

He turned his head in her direction, searching it seemed. She started, shocked. Though she had never seen the man before (though she might have been wrong, she conceded), she had heard the stories often enough to discern him from the rest of the mid-day travelers.

Not five feet away from the bodyguard stood the infamous Logan. Pirate, smuggler, slave freerer (for which she cheered long and loud), fighter, rogue. You name it, he's been called it. He's been known to save the innocent and kill everyone else.

He shook his head and continued on his way. Jess let out the breath she had unconsciously taken. That man was dangerous, if the stories were to be believed. And somehow, for an unknown reason, Jess was a true believer.

But where had she seen him before ......?

End part 1.

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