The Watcher

What is to fear, for i have no life?

A watcher. The purpose comes in the name, doesn't it? Simply put, to watch. From beings ever so powerful none can resist them in any way, i was bestowed a purpose. To watch on yet an other powerful, but lesser being. I was not to assist them, nor was i to guide, direct or interfere in any way. I was but a witness of their accomplishments, failures and victories... But i was replaced. I was quickly, and swiftly, tossed aside by an imposter. Did the mighty one i was supposed to watch even noticed? I'll never know.

Sadly, i was transported in an other realm by means i know not of. My only method of transformation was through the host i was watching, but seeing as we are so far apart, i doubt i will be going anywhere any time soon. Luckily, i have no age, nor do i sense, feel or live... I simply watch. That is my purpose after all. Since i am without a host, without someone to watch, i shall roam this realm and watch it all. Perhaps in doing so i will find a way back to what i consider home.

This realm resembles my own. It actually is just like it but oh so many centuries ago. I do recognize all of it, but i do notice it's habitants, it's colors and it's... Flaws. I cannot smell, but i assume the scents are the same. I cannot feel, but i assume the weather is the same. I cannot live, but i assume life is the same. Humans here are what they are there, or at least they seam to be. The world is as i know it, or as i once knew it. It's past seems to match the past i know, it's future seems to be shared as well, so, what does differ?

The balance, here, is changed. Nothing like the one i am accustomed to. Right and wrong, heaven and hell, good and evil... the definitions differ. The other differences are small, but present. I cannot fully describe them but i know what they are. I can see some of them as i travel these lands. Perhaps i should stop and watch a specific soul? Get a more... Down to earth view of things. Maybe things aren't so different here...

And so the little Watcher went and watched. In the best of days, she talked to many, inspired some and even helped others with her knowledge. In the worse, she was alone, misguided many and frightened others with a reality not her own. One can see her presence as much of a gift as it can be poisonous. Doing more than watching, the Watcher always has a thing to say, though never does more than talk.

The little thing floats around, unbound, careless and curious until it decides to force itself on someone. Perhaps it is wanted, perhaps it isn't, but either way, the Watcher only does what the Watcher wants. It watches only those seemingly interesting enough, often abandoning one for a more interesting other. Should one need the Watcher, one should bound it, capture it, but it is a feat easier said than done, as the Watcher only has a body when it wants to. Who shall be the next to witness the Watcher?