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Guardian of Time

By Cimmaron Spirit

Chapter Three: Confronting the Past

"How can I tell that the past isn't a fiction designed to account for the discrepancy between my immediate physical sensations and my state of mind?"

-Douglas Adams

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Cimmaron sighed as he flopped down on his bed, exhausted from yet another day of training. He had been doing this for what seemed like years now since that New Year's Eve that he became a Guardian of Time and a furry. For one thing, he didn't knows if it had been years: the time traveling stuff was still confusing, to say the least. And that where he was, the Headquarters of the Guardians of Time, wasn't even part of time, but outside of it? And not only that, but he was as well? It really didn't make sense sometimes.

Not that he was complaining. For one thing, being an anthro horse was purely awesome: he was faster than any normal human, as well as larger and stronger. But, not only that, but he was now eighteen...or, at least, legally in any normal place, he would be 18. Again, being "timeless"had its perks and drawbacks

As he lay down, the door opened again, and his roommate, another Furry Guardian, entered. The older and more experienced fox, named Desmond, also sighed as he flopped onto his own bed.

"Heya Desy,"the stallion nickered, eying the fox from the corner of his eye.

"Cim,"the vulpine responded. The two looked at each other for a long while. The fox was a foot shorter than Cimmaron, but his orange, white and black coat was luxuriously taken care of, and, if the sun hit it just right, it would turn him into a shimmering image of awe and wonder. The fox was a more lithe, agile fur than Cim, more inclined to use his martial arts prowess to defeat an opponent, while the stallion still favoured a weapon, preferably a sword or bow and arrow.

In comparison to the fox, the stallion was much bigger. His body was more for strength, though still had an acrobatic grace and ability (apparently, his linage was a cross between a showy Morgan Quarter horse, the strong Canadian horse that the Royal Canadian Mounted Police used when it was still a mounted force, and a world famous "dancing"Lipizzaner. Apparently, in the future, his fur might start turning white, but that made Cim nervous, because a white stallion could stand much more than a brown one.)

The two looked at each other, before at last Cim rose up and rolled over onto the fox's bed, nuzzling up beside him.

The fox looked over, and grinned. "For a tired pony, you still seem to have some stamina."

The horse smiled back. "But of course you like that, dontcha?"

The fox pulled the stallion close. "You know it."

The two leaned in together to kiss; a long, deep passionate kiss that seemed to go on and on. Their eyes were closed, focused on tasting the other's mouth with their tongues, wrestling playfully. Cim hoofed hands reached underneath the fox's shirt, and started to tweak a nipple, making the fox gasp. In moments, though, he recovered from the surprise and continued kissing, reaching his own paw into the stallion's pants, and prodding around his groin for the leathery sheathe.

Cimmaron shuffled a little bit, and slowly pulled away from the kiss. Desmond followed, not wanting to let go so soon. The horse wasn't really one for foreplay, but the fox was determined to drag this on, to show his love for his younger mate.

They were both sitting now, the kiss at last broken. The foxes hand kneading the bulging sac underneath the large horse sheathe which was at last opening up, allowing the enlarging stallion cock to escape its confines.

The fox bent down closer to Cim's nether regions, and took the lengthening member into his maw, nipping a bit at the tough flesh. He knew it was almost impossible for him to take it all in his mouth, but he still wanted to try.

The horse groaned from the feeling of having his cock being suckled on, and Desmond was rewarded with several dribbles of sweet, salty preseed, which spurred the lupine to go further, wanting more of the delicious fluids.

The horse reached a paw to the foxes head, and pushed it down harder onto the his hardening member. The fox murrfed at the push, but took in the penis as best as he could, pre now dribbling out at an increased rate.

Like the expert he was, Desmond continued to swallow the pre, while coaxing more and more from the stallion. Cimmaron could feel his body starting to tense up, but he willed it down. He had so much more he wanted to do with the fox than get a blow job. And he knew that Desmond wouldn't mind, too much...

The horse pulled his cock away, and the fox groaned softly, no longer receiving the fluid he so wanted. But as the now rock hard two foot cock passed Desmond's lips, a huge splurt of preseed gushed out, filling his mouth with the almost addicting drink.

Cim grinned as the fox swallowed, and as Desmond licked his lips, the horse pushed the fox backwards, pushing his long, lithe legs above his head, and showing off the tight ass hole of his lover.

The stallion bent down and started nuzzling the cute little butt of the fox, his tongue reaching out to start teasing the entrance. The fox gasped again, and shivered as the long, rough horse tongue started teasing the tight pucker, slipping in and out easily, the tongue being clamped on by the eager foxes anal passage, at which point Cimmaron started to flick the edges around, making the fox arch his back. The horse was getting much better at this than when they first started a while ago: the shy stallion needing coaxing and, indeed, lesson's of what to do. Cim seemed to have been confused and shocked at the pleasure the fox taught him, but, he had learned well, and quickly.

Cimmaron withdrew, remembering the first time he tried this. It was...a while ago, he guessed, and he was revolted by the idea at first, but the fox did it to him...oh God was that heavenly! So, he had to return the favor, and, well, it was better than he thought. He was more inclined to just want to fuck the lights out of Desmond, but he liked the long, less direct route. But, either way, he was going to get his rocks of at least.

The fox, panting from the pleasure, looked back to see the stallion aiming the large member against Desmond's black rosebud, waiting to break in again. Though the fox had taken many people before throughout history, the horse he slept with was the only one that could do a proper job of it: just the right length and thickness for the fox, who, yeah, was a bit of a size queen. But...that equine phallus was perfect for him.

Pre still dripping out of his urethra, the young stallion started to rub the flaring head against the entrance of the fox, smearing the now cool, clear liquid around the tight hole, in preparation for what was next. After a moment though, he reached back behind him, and reached into the drawer that held their..."toys", and withdrew the bottle of lube, which he used liberally on his cock, before starting to finger the fox, reading the experienced, yet still tight, hole for what was next.

Ohh....Cim,"the fox moaned, his own cock now hard and bulging out of his sheath, a knot starting to form. "Take me. Take me, you big stud!"

Cimmaron pulled his fingers out with a loud shlorp, before gently pushing his flat head against the tight pucker yet again.

"Fuck me! Fuck me with that horse cock!"Desmond cried, bracing for what he so much wanted, that perfect cock inside him, filling him with the horse's virile seed, so much that it would keep dripping out for hours after...

The horse grunted, and pushed the large cock inside the tight ass, forcing in inch after inch, deeper and deeper into the willing fox, who yipped and squealed in pleasure as his ass was spread open around the mighty shaft. Cim continued to push in, the bulging medial ring slipping past the tight pucker, before he had to stop. He started to pull out a little, before ramming it back home, making the fox yip again. The stallion grabbed a hold of Desmond's hips, digging his hooves into the soft red fur to get a better grip, and started to pile drive his cock in and out of the stretched and abused hole of the fox, who thrust back to meet the horse's drives in, and rocking forward to allow the horse to try again, going deeper and deeper each time.

"Oh...Gods..." the lupine moaned, his eyes rolling back into his head as the horse cock started to bang up against his prostate, making him clinch his ass muscles around the thrusting shaft inside him. Cim nickered, before redoubling his efforts, until his pendulous ball started slapping up against the foxes smaller testes, and his groin meet the foxes rear with each thrust, the two foot long stallion hood buried completely inside Desmond. The fox gasped, and yipped again. He could feel the flat head of the cock inside him start to flare, and he felt his own knot fully engorged now, begging for release.

"Don't stop! Give it to me!" Desmond begged like the slut he could be, and the horse, now driven completely by instinct, heeded the cry, and with a massive, room shaking whiney, the stallion came; long, thick rope of cum quick lying filling the foxes anal passage, and then past the massive cock blocking the entrance, dripping down over the large, now emptying horse balls.

Desmond felt the wave of seed inside him, and he howled as his own orgasm struck, the fox cock splurting seed all over the bed and his chest, mixing in with the far more copious horse cum.

At last Cim's cock was shooting no more, and, with a gentle pull, managed to withdraw his softening member from Desmond's tail hole. The long member was retreating back into its protective sheathe, to remain until the next time the horse was ready to play.

Like usual, the fox had passed out from the sheer pleasure he had experienced, the cum and sweat matting his fur. Cim chuckled, before climbing off the bed and walking to the washroom the two shared. He took a long piss, before washing off the cum that had covered his balls and legs. He looked into the mirror, and chuckled at the goofy grin plastered on his face, before turning back to go to his bed. It had been a while since he had lost his virginity, but he couldn't help himself. Every time, the pleasure and lust and love that the two shared could not be comparable to anything else, he knew. He would do anything for the fox (like give him a massive load of horse seed, the stallion chuckled), and the fox would do anything for him.

And Cimmaron wouldn't have it any other way, he thought as he shut off the lights, and joined the fox in deep slumber.

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The days and weeks that soon blended to months and years that Cimmaron trained to be a Guardian of Time seemed to flash by in his mind once again, as he calmly sat (at least on his outward appearance, as his insides were tingling in excitement) in the Parisian café, sipping from a small coffee cup.

Of course, it was 1942, and in a City of Lights occupied by the Nazi's, but that was a minor detail. The fact that, after nearly five years of training, sweat, tears and pain, (and sex every night, mostly with Desmond, but also with others) he had finally got his first mission! The brown haired, black mane stallion, dressed in a conservative grey suit, which was a near match to the German feldgrau uniform of the average infantry man, idly sat, watching the world pass by. Training to be calm in any situation, to blend in, to become part of the scenery, was perhaps one of the first things to learn to become a Guardian, besides how to use your powers. Several years of entering a historical scene with a mentor, then blending it, disappearing into the crowds, to not stand out, was perhaps one of the most thrilling things he did. To see history as an idle bystander (such as the Russian Revolution in 1917, the Great Fire of London of 1606, the Titanic leaving on her fateful maiden voyage...ah, to be free to flow through time!)

"Excuse-moi, mon-amis,_"_a human dressed in a black suit and fedora and a small, pencil thin mustache asked, snapping the stallion from his thoughts.

"Yes, mousionr?"Cim asked in French, practicing the other art of blending: not only to not stand out, but to speak the language, or at least, seem like a tourist.

The Frenchman pointed to the chair across from the anthro stallion. "Is this seat taken?"

"No, please help yourself,"Cim said, giving a small smile. So his contact had arrived at last. Good.

"Merci,"the human said, sitting himself down. "Not often I see an equine around here."

A shrug that would have made a normal Frenchman proud was all that Cimmaron answered with. "What can I say? I have lived in many places in my time, and Paris always had a certain fascination for me."

"Even under occupation?"the Frenchman asked after ordering a coffee from the waiter that came by.

"Well, even under the swastika, Paris is a city of romantic, beautiful sights and...intrig7ue."The horse finished after the waiter delivered the cup of coffee.

The man raised an eyebrow. "So what do you wish to know?"

Cimmaron leaned forward. "In your previous post in the Ministry of Defense, you had access to a project related to a time machine, non?"

The man hesitated, before nodding quickly so no one would notice except the person talking with him. "Oui, codenamed Marseilles. A scientist had managed to convince the government to give large sums of francs to try, and, well, they were suckered into it."

"You don't believe it was possible, did you?"Cimmaron asked.

The other man struck a match and lit a cigarette, before puffing away at it in the French "I really don't give a damn"attitude "Non, and I still do not. It had never worked."

"But, your team had achieved great leaps, though you may not realize it."Cimmaron held a hand before the other man could protest. "But, either way, I must make sure that the German's do not get their hands on it."For one thing, and this was important, if somebody that existed in one time tried to go into another, it would destroy the fabric of the world they exist on, blending time, space, history and events into a chaotic and disastrous mess, where the past, present and future where indistinguishable, and everything just happened. Time and space was the most important: without these two components, then everything else was useless.

The Frenchman looked at the horse suspiciously. "You are not American, though."Cim shook his head.

"I have my own allegiance, and it is not to any nation, but the whole world. If the Germans get a hold of it, there is no telling of what mayhem and chaos they could wreck."The horse sipped at his coffee. "So, I will ask: can you tell me where it is?"

Before the Frenchman could answer, several loud guttural sounds and barks were heard down the street. They both looked around, and the former bureaucrat winced as he saw a handful of German's approach. One, a human lieutenant from the tabs on his collar, glanced in Cimmaron's direction, noticing a stallion that didn't belong. The German officer barked some instructions to his underlings, both a mixture of Furries and humans, before walking up to the two conspirators.

"You, equine,"he said, looking down his nose at the horse, "papers. Now."

Cimmaron nodded, and handed over the passport marked with the swastika clutching eagle of the Third Reich, which made the officer pause, and quickly flip through.

"You are a German?"the Lieutenant asked in shock. Although Hitler had not come out directly against "herbivore"furries (the more violent and aggressive carnivores and predators were much more highly regarded), they were still looked down upon: one step above the Untersminchen, perhaps, but still not true Aryans.

"Yes,Herr Lieutenant,"Cimmaron started in German, which was just as fluent as his French. "I am an engineer from the Krupp works in Essen, and am here on holiday, as well as orders to investigate captured French vehicles, so modifications can be made to the new Panzerkampfwagen currently in production. Though, I doubt I can find anything my colleagues haven't already thought of."

The officer swallowed softly. "My apologies, Herr..."

"Sparet,"the stallion replied. "Kamerion Sparet."

"Of course, Herr Sparet. My apologies."The officer replied, handing back his passport and saluting in the Nazi manner, which prompted "Kamerion"to return and bark a "Heil Hitler!", as much as he regretted doing it. But, a cover was a cover, and it had to be maintained, no matter what.

His partner had his passport inspected as well, but soon it was handed back as well, and the officers returned to their stroll through Paris, looking for the one person without their papers, or that one that was not in order...

The Frenchman was sweating bullets, but Cimmaron sipped as his coffee calmly. "How did you manage to trick them?"he asked at last, after several nervous puffs of his cigarette.

"I have many friends that can get me what I need,"he replied, not mentioning that the Guardians of Time had experience in blending and fitting in like no other group in all of history, which included a well equipped Counterfeiting department. "But, now, more important concerns; Marseilles. Where is it?"

The Frenchman stubbed out his first cigarette and lit another, taking savage puffs from it to get rid of the taste of the occupiers. "Underneath the Louvre Museum, just down the street,"he replied, explaining how to get down there. "As of the last time I heard, the Nazi's have not found it, so it shouldn't be a problem for you to deal with it. Though, that was several weeks ago, so I can give no assurances."

"You don't need to worry about that,"Cimmaron replied. "I can handle myself if need be."

The Frenchman finished his coffee, but the stallion had already pulled out several Reichsmarks and paid for the meal. The waiter eagerly, but also regretfully, took the German currency. It was more valuable than the former Francs had been, but, like many things in this subdued City of Lights, was still a bitter pill to swallow. All well. Two more years, and it would be over, Cim knew.

The two parted ways. Cimmaron took the long about route to the Louvre, passing Notre Dame Cathedral and the Latin Quarter, before swinging back around toward the Eiffel Tower, his grey coat having been turned around to become a faded blue suit, and a beret he had in a pocket now on his head. He lit a cigarette (one of the ones with tobacco simulates: it tasted like it, and behaved like it, but it didn't damage his lungs). It was important to blend in, and since everyone smokes, you might as well.

He entered the Louvre grounds after crossing the Seine River near the massive iron structure that was the focal point of Paris, and wandered his way around the former palace. He passed the magnificent works of art (many of which Cim had seen in Italy before Napoleon had taken them as trophies of war), counting the doors until he found...

That one! Cim casually glanced around, and didn't see anyone. He tried the door, and found it was unlocked. Weird: his contact had told him it was normally always locked.

He slipped in, closing the door silently behind him. He looked around, and saw that the stairs lead to a spiral staircase to the bottom, where the room would have been.

Cimmaron pulled out his Chronodevice, and glanced at the time. 5:09 PM, August 3, 1942. He grinned at that: he could be done this before supper, and be back at the Guardian of Time HQ.

He paused a moment, and with a silent command his Chronodevice started to melt in his hand, and was reshaping itself. In moments the golden pocket watch transformed to become a pistol, with the symbol of his elements engraved on the stock. As much as he would prefer something with more power, or even a sword, this would have to do for now. Maybe he'd change it later.

He took the stone steps down, his hooves clicking against the old and weathered steps. Electric lighting had been installed in the past few years, it looked like, and so he could easily see where he was going.

As the time traveling stallion went deeper and deeper, the temperature seemed to drop as well. He shivered a bit, but shrugged it away, focusing on the mission. He took the last few steps down to the door that lead to the room that he was told would have the partially completed time machine.

As he reached for the door, it swung open on its own accord. Had the German's already gotten here? If so, that could mean that all of history could be destroyed, and he was too late...

He peaked in the door, but couldn't see anything. No papers, no machinery. It was just an empty stone room. Cimmaron bit his lip, and then stepped forward quietly, into the room.

He looked all around, but there was nothing? But...something wasn't right. There had to be something! He could sense it!

Then he realized what it was. A cold blast of air went right through him, and he swirled around.

"So, they sent you? Just like I hoped,"a dark, deep voice spoke with an evil grin.

"Zeitherr!"Cimmaron exclaimed, seeing the familiar black robe and white hair, changing his Chronodevice back to its pocket watch shape to be ready to transform if the need arises.

"Surprised to see me, pony boy?"the evil lord chuckled. "I had been watching you train. And though you know what to do, you still have no experience, and no way to tap into your power."

"I can still fight you,"Cim grimaced, positioning himself to be prepared for exactly that.

"But can you win?"the Germanic creature asked pointedly. "No, you cannot. And you know it."

"But the other Guardians will..."the anthro stallion started.

Zeitherr laughed again. "Do what? Come to your rescue? Why? And how would they know you're in trouble?"

Cim growled, and he knew that was true. It was supposed to be a simple get in, fix the timeline, get out thing. Not a confrontation with the greatest enemy of the Guardians of Time...

Zeitherr pulled out his Chronodevice, a blackened thing that looked like it had been burned in a fire. But, it was really a Force of Darkness device, as the evil time traveler's power was with Darkness only, unlike Cim who could command all six forces: Air, Fire, Water, Earth, Light and Dark.

The figure pulled his watch up and aimed it at Cim, the clock face seeming to melt and bend, before a streak of black energy shot out. The stallion pulled his watch up and a white blast of Light power came out and met the black burst in the middle of the room. Once the two energies cam into contact, they exploded, sending both Cim and Zeitherr backwards into the opposite corners of the room.

Zeitherr was the first back up, scowling. "This would be easier if you were just a normal Guardian!" he barked, before leaping into the air, his Chronodevice changing into a heavy broadsword. He took the metal blade, and with a unearthly roar, came down on the horse...

...Who blocked the strike with his own sword, a slender rapier. A normal sword would have been crushed by that blow, but the Chronodevice sword was impervious to such an attack. Cim then lifted his other hand, a fireball resting on his palm. A grin, and then he stretched his arm out at Zeitherr, and a massive ball of flame emerged, and blasted into Zeitherr. The ball of fire struck him solidly, and sent him back to his side of the room, the power of the blast smashing the rock and stone.

Cim got up, a fire ball in his free hand, prepared for the next attack. The evil lord rose up, the military uniform he was wearing now scorched black from the heat of the fireball. "I will make you pay for that, you pathetic pony!"

The corner of Cim's mouth turned up at that. "Big words for a guy that has so far been defeated..."

With a scream of rage, Zeitherr lunged again, the sword in his hand taking massive swings at the stallion, who parried each strike and trusted when he could. One cut was landed on the dark time traveler, on his sword arm. But, though it was deep enough to cut into flesh, no blood cam out, the skin instead instantly covering and healing again.

Cimmaron stopped in surprise. "But that..."

Zeitherr swung again at the distracted equine, but he wasn't able to fully dodge the blow, and the stallion was knocked down.

"I have many abilities that no normal Guardian has," he gloated, before changing the sword back to its watch form. "And that is the only one you will ever know..."

Cim, still dazed from the fall, looked up to see the other Chronodevice, the black one, start to power up again, and winced. He grabbed his, which was still in sword shape, and jumped up. The stallion charged at Zeitherr, aiming the sword at his chest...

Zeitherr moved the arm with the pocket watch to block the attack, putting his Chronodevice in the way of the attack. The tip of the sword pierced the almost charged weapon.

What happened next is still not understood completely. A flash of light and dark, then an explosion, and both figures were consumed in the fiery effects. Cim was thrown again to the edge of the room, but this time in such force that his entire body was implanted into the stone, leaving a horse shape in the wall. Zeitherr was blasted through the wooden door and into the stairwell. The other time traveler, stunned by the blast (but unscarred, due to his "abilities"), then escaped. His Chronodevice had been nearly destroyed: the ability to time travel and use powers, the two main functions of the device, had been knocked out. Zeitherr was, effectively, trapped in time for now.

Cim, on the other hand, was near death. The explosion had, surprisingly, not caused much damage to the horse's body, but had burnt the clothing he was wearing. But being smashed into the underground stone wall had knocked him unconscious.

And the effect of piercing the other Chronodevice had unleashed the powers of both of them. Zeitherr had been unaffected by this, as the device had been facing away from him, but Cim took the full brunt of the force unleashed. The force of the dark energy of Zeitherr's device had engulfed the stallion, seeming to have burned into the very interior of the Guardian's soul. The horse's Chronodevice had blocked only a little, the dark energy seeming to have just simply traveled through the sword it was at that moment had imprinted itself on Cimmaron's upper body.

Had the stallion been awake, he would have seen that the symbol on the back of the pocket watch had been emblazoned on him: the symbol of the balance of light and dark, a mixture of a crescent moon and blazing sun, was burned into the middle of his chest. The symbols of Air, Fire, Water and Earth had also been transferred, with a line connecting the symbols (inside a circle) to the others, forming a diamond around the central symbol.

But Cim would not have been too concerned. Now unconscious, the stallion was now in the fight for his soul, the darkness of Zeitherr trying to do what the time traveler himself had failed

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Cimmaron softly opened his eyes, but all he could see was blackness. He looked around, trying to see if anything was nearby. But all he could see was the nothingness. His mind told him this had happened once before, when he had been knocked out when Chronos, the Keeper of Time, had brought him to his new life. He had been turned from a human named Tyler to an anthropomorphic stallion named Cimmaron that time.

What was going to happen now?

You are going to pay for standing in my way, a deep voice answered.

Zeitherr! Cim tried to scream out, but his mouth would not work.

You tried to fight an unstoppable force. You got a lucky shot in. But it will be the only one you ever get. He will win his battle, you know.

NO! I will not allow him! He wants to destroy the world's! I can't allow him!

But how can you stop him? You are weak, pathetic. You couldn't stop him just now.

But... but... I destroyed his Chronodevice! By now Cim's mind was trying to find a way out... anyway...

And he'll fix it. And you won't be able to stop him!

LIAR!!! Cim roared out, but when he tried to move, he was stuck, frozen. His body was still unresponsive, and his mind was trapped inside his body with the darkness. The Guardians will be able to stop him! his mind retorted

What makes you think that they can stop him either? They have all failed. For centuries, they have all failed to stop him and his plan. And you are no different.

Cimmaron was seething in rage. He so much wanted to hunt down that bastard and kill him. For taunting him like this; rubbing in his face how young he was...

Just like your parents,_the voice said. _So insistent on the wrong things.

Cimmaron stopped. What are you talking about, my parents?

Even though it was just darkness, Cim was certain that voice had a wicked smile right then. Did you really think they died in a car crash?

The stallion was speechless. A lump in his throat wouldn't come out, and he was left with nothing to say.

It was so easy. Just move a truck at the last moment into their way, using time shifting. The fact that it was winter made it easier to cover up.

Cimmaron couldn't believe it. You...you... couldn't have done this...

But it wasn't right. No. You weren't with them. That was the only thing that screwed it up. Then you would never have made it this far.

Cimmaron closed his eyes, trying to wish it away. The darkness seemed to get closer and closer, trying to suffocate him. Cim couldn't fight it.

You just aren't supposed to exist. the voice continued, dragging the horse deeper and deeper into the pit of misery. You are a screwup, a failure... and a time anomaly. You failed Tyler. Failed.

And what of your Desmond? Nothing can keep him from leaving you.

But.. He wouldn't, Cim tried to argue, but his voice was faltering.

He's just a cock slut. You happen to have a big one, so he'll suck it and ride it. But the moment a bigger one comes, he's gone you know.

No...no...we love each other...

What is love? To him it's the opportunity to get his brains fucked out. You should know that. And he will leave you, leaving you alone in this world, never being able to trust or love again.

At that point the Guardian crashed, the darkness, kept at bay by his willpower, at last swooped in and covered and penetrated him, trying to destroy his soul and will.

_Cimmaron..._a different voice called. The stallion didn't care.

Cimmaron... he's lying to you.

No, he's right, the horse sulked, the darkness accelerating the fall into misery and depression. I shouldn't be here...

The other voice then appeared into his vision. A figure in a white toga, but also with a Chronodevice in his hand, also gold...

Come Cimmaron. Fight back the darkness, it said. You are better than that.

But he's right...

_No. He's wrong. He's just trying to drag you down into the same pit he fell into,_the toga clad figure said.

LIAR! the dark voice said. You are nothing but a mirage! A figment of the imagination! You are dead!

You think I'm dead, Zeitherr. In fact, while I have left this life as a mortal, now I'm stronger than you. Cimmaron is stronger than me and you!

Impossible! Nothing is stronger than me!

You are wrong! The figure in the toga said. You are nothing but an anomaly. A screw up in time. You are the one that should not exist.

NOOOOOO!!! screamed the dark voice, the sound fading in the distance till it vanished.

The ancient human then walked over to Cim, the darkness still around him_. He is gone._

Cimmaron looked up weakily. But... he's right. I should have been in that car with my mom and dad... The darkness seemed to creep up higher.

But you were not. I made sure of it.

How? Cim asked. And you still let my parent's die?

The toga figure knelt down beside the horse. I couldn't stop it. The event had been set in motion by Zeitherr, and to stop it, I would have had to destory the entire Alpha Timeline, therefore destroying all the worlds. But, I was able to influence them enough to drop you off at a friends house, to make sure you survived.

Why me? I can't do anything... Again, the darkness kept climbing over the stallion.

Because you have a great power: greater than the ability to move through time and control elements. No. You have a power far beyond that.

The darkness seemed to retreat a little. What is it?

The ancient toga wearing human placed a hand on Cim's chest. Your heart. Your ability to love, cherish, respect and admire. You love Desmond. And he love's you.

But he's going to leave me...

Not in the way you think,_the voice said. _But he will always love you. And you will always love him, right?

Cimmaron at last sobbed, his emotions to much for him. I want to go back, and tell Desmond... that I love him.

The toga figure nodded. You will. Very soon. He turned and started to walk away.

Wait! Cim called, making him stop and look over his shoulder. Are you... my Guardian?

The toga figure seemed to be vanishing into thin air. Look inside. You will find the answer there.

Cim was about to ask another question when he vanished. The horse sat there, tears still rolling down his face. But the darkness, while not gone, had been driven back. And that would have to do...

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Cimmaron opened an eye, and looked around. He was laying in a bed in a house. He tried to sit up, but his body wouldn't let him. He groaned softly, which spurred the sound of footsteps on the other side of the door.

The Frenchman that Cim had met earlier walked in, and sighed in relief. "Kamerion! You are awake!"

The horse looked over, and forced a week smile. "Yes...and, where am I?"

The Frenchman came closer. "A Resistance safe house. The Nazi's have been looking everywhere for you. They must have seen through your lies."

"Oh god..." the horse groaned, before falling back in bed.

"But we have talked to the SOE agent in this area, and he asked London to see if you should be evacuated, and they said they will take you."

Cimmaron looked nervous about that, and the Frenchman noticed. "Something wrong?"

The horse at last forced himself to sit up, despite the protests of the human. "I can't go to London." he said. "I have to go."

"But... why not? Half of France would like to go, and you are passing it up?"

Cimmaron looked around, and saw the golden pocket watch on his dresser. Good.

_"_I can't go. That is that," the horse stated, in a tone that brokered no argument.

"I'm sure somebody else has to go. Just say I left before the plane came."

The Frenchman sighed, and nodded. "I hope I can go. The Nazi's will be on my tail soon."

"Then go. Take my place," Cimmaron said. "Can you hand me my pocket watch?"

The human went over, and handed it over. "It looks very nice, I must say."

"It's a priceless present," the horse replied. "It was good to meet your aquantince. Now I must ask you to leave."

"Um, one thing though..." he asked. "Did the time machine work?

Cimmaron bit his lip. "No. And I made sure it never will."

The human nodded, and left, silently closing the door behind him, not realizing that they had been talking about different things. At least . Cimmaron sighed again, then started to twist the knobs of the device. At least it still worked that way...

Suddenly, he was no longer sitting in a room of a French Resistance operated safe house, but the Temple of Time. Chronos stood there, his scythe and hour glass in hand.

"Welcome back, Cimmaron," the old god said. "And I know all of what happened. We didn't know it was a trick until the last moment. There was a time machine project, but the Nazi's must have already gotten it."

"Oh crap..." the horse moaned.

"But they won't get it working. They would spend millions to try to, and divert precious resources, but they will fail either way."

Cimmaron sighed in relief. "So I don't have to go back there and fix it?"

The god shook his head. "I had already sent another Guardian to make sure that the Nazi's won't be able to." the aged figure then walked up to Cim. "But you are sick, and need to heal. And then you should be able to go back to missions.

The horse nodded. A gurney sat nearby, and the horse climbed up on it, and promptly passed out, tired from the fight and the internal battle, both of which he had narrowly won or lost, depending on the definition. But many battles still lay in the future...