Old Friends

He sat at his desk, depressed. What was he thinking about? I don't know. I am his Guardian Spirit. I was long ago assigned to him by the Great One, and I watch him by night and by day. I can deduce much, for I know much, but I cannot read his secret thoughts.

He does not know I exist, though I believe he suspects it.

A note was delivered to him today, unsigned and unmailed, it must have been placed there by hand.

"Do you remember your old friends? We will be arriving shortly. Prepare."

I tried to think who they could be. Why would he be distressed at this epistle? Old friends visiting should be an occasion of joy. Who could be coming? My charge's life had been a happy, if uneventful one. He had no enemies beyond the ordinary caliber, rivals, unfriends, competitors. Never anyone of import. Perhaps he had been mistaken for someone else? No, I think not. Something about the letter told me the writer knew my charge.

Unless the one I guard is... One of the Recurrences.

I know of them, but not who they are. They are sometimes found, but lost in death, save to themselves. The Recurrences are nearly immortal, if anyone may be. They die often, but never for good, and will be reborn until the End of Days.

My mind was filled with many clues, many hints in the past of this truth. He was one of them.

The sender of this note must know him... Perhaps better than I. Some associate of his past existence, some enemy or nemesis from his from an earlier life.

I checked the door with my invisible hands, the window with my invisible eyes.

I must protect him.