I've waited about five hundred years for someone to show up and kill me. Sure, it's happened before – millions of times, from world to world – but the fear is always the same.
What if I'm wrong? What if my past lives are just some kind of delusion, sent by the fell spirits to make sure I don't confront them myself?
I don't have an answer to these questions. In the end all I have is faith. Faith...and adventurers beating down the door. Would-be champions, the lot of them, with one in a thousand actually worthy. A startling majority of them haven't even visited the other Aspects; how could they possibly hope for success?
This time it's three adventurers, and it looks like their chances are better than most. That's...that's a good thing. I've been watching them from above, hidden by a screen that they think is the ceiling, as they fight their way through my lair. Most of their battles are against sendings – phantoms of my own construction, sent to test the champion's prowess in combat. After all, it just wouldn't do for the Champion to not know how to fight, right? I'm the last Guardian. After my death, the Champion fights for the world; he'd better not need to train, because there's not a lot of time left for him to do so.
I can hear the spawn now. They're scraping at the wards around my lair...the wards keep them out, but when the Champion kills me, they will have free reign. They believe this is the one.
I do too, now. Although, I'm not sure which of the three is the Champion, yet. I can sense the presence of the other Aspects now; all eight of them are here. My brothers are dead.
Good, and bad. The Champion has collected their essences, absorbed their powers and been judged worthy; if he beats me, we'll be ready to face the fell spirits soon. But if the adventurers below lose, it'll be an uphill battle to re-establish the other Aspects in time for another Champion to make a go at it.
I hear a yelled obscenity from below as the adventurers reach the room right outside my lair and view the last puzzle I've set for them. The Champion has to be smart, too, you know.
Which one of them is it? Is the short one the Champion? He's the one giving directions; I may not have ears but I can pick them up pretty clearly. Is Fox whispering to him on the inside? Is Gryphon blustering on in his head?
Or is it the big guy? He's quite the impressive specimen; I'd actually mistaken him for my brother Bear when I first saw him – fitting enough if Bear's Aspect is in him. He's pushing the blocks around like nobody's business.
Or is it the woman? She's nimble enough to be Mouse. For some reason, I'm unsurprised to see her use a bow – nor am I surprised that she didn't need a second shot to knock a key down from a thirty foot ledge. That could be Hawk's help. If she's the one, I'd better watch those arrows – Serpent will be sure to poison them.
I won't know for sure until I see one of them actually assume an Aspect. The other two will be immaterial; a regular mortal can barely scratch my scales.
It doesn't matter. The last room won't hold them for long – really, it's only there to slow them down while I get into position, crawling across the real ceiling and dropping into a large nest, curling up and wrapping my wings around myself.
Why a nest? I don't know. I fly – I guess that makes me sufficiently birdlike that they expect a nest, even though that would imply eggs, and I'm the only one of my kind. Physically, at least.
The door creaks open, but nobody enters.