“Free will,” said Cray, swirling the tea in his cup without even looking at it. “That’s the key, Mr. Oruba. That’s the one thing the Gods agreed to offer to humanity. Except, it had certain conditions.”

Maitho had returned to the seat. But this time, he had positioned his chair so that he could see the garden and Cray. “What were those conditions?”

“To understand that, you need to know something,” said Cray. “Guardians weren’t created out of dust. You didn’t simply appear out of nowhere like miracle beings. You were part of the natural evolution of mankind. The only difference is that you evolved faster.”

“Why couldn’t the Gods simply create us?”

“The Gods are not creators like you might imagine that they are. More importantly, they cannot do whatever they like. Why? This is something only they know. But the conclusion is that Guardians have roamed the Earth far longer than human beings.”

Maitho noticed a flicker of movement between a few trees in the far end of the garden. He wasn’t entirely certain if it was actually a figure or if the shadows were playing tricks on his eyes. When he looked at Cray, the old man seemed to not have noticed anything. “For what purpose?” Maitho chose to ask.

“Why, to make sure that things went according to plan. Humans needed to evolve. They needed to reach this point in time and Guardians were the ones to make that happen.” He paused for a moment, his eyes focused on the garden. “I don’t know what the Guardians were doing at the dawn of mankind, but I know what they are doing now.” He returned his gaze to Maitho. “They are ensuring that mankind progresses according to a plan. The human race is supposed to evolve in a specific way. But our progress has been slower than anticipated. The Gods don’t seem like that. Again, I don’t know the reasons why.”

Maitho didn’t interrupt. He knew there was more. It was best to allow the old man to complete his monologue.

“At this point, the Gods decide that the best way to guide humanity is to make sure that events occur the way they are meant to. Now, what do you think is the most important ingredient for humanity to follow a certain course, Mr. Oruba?”

The answer was obvious. Maitho didn’t have to think too long. “Humans. People.”

“Correct,” said Cray, looking pleased, as though he was a teacher impressed with his favorite pupil. “Humans needed to act in a particular way to make sure that history proceeded in a particular manner. There had to be no deviations from the predetermined plan of the Gods. Any change, however minor, meant a delay in the progress of the human race. Are you with me so far, Mr. Oruba?”

The old man’s tone was condescending, but it was an obvious result of knowing too much. He couldn’t help himself. He was more focused on delivering the information rather than how he made that delivery. “Don’t worry about me,” said Maitho. “You keep going on.”

“Fantastic,” said Cray. “Now fate is a tricky thing to understand. However, the gist of it is that if someone was meant to do something, then they would. Unless of course, death arrived at their doorstep much earlier than anticipated or their lives changed directions drastically.”

Once again, Maitho saw movement among the trees. The fact that he noticed something twice was too much of a coincidence to chalk it as mere tricks of shadows. But he chose not to say anything about what he saw. He was in the presence of powerful people. If there was a threat nearby, then he wasn’t entirely worried.

Cray continued. “The Guardians were the chosen ones who ensured that certain people stayed on the path laid out for them. That way, one human would go on to become president. Another, a scientist. People around the world assumed roles meant for them. They guided humanity’s progress.” A small pause. “I would like you to think back to major events in human history. Mention one that comes to your mind.”

“The Peloponnesian War,” said Maitho in a heartbeat’s span, randomly picking the one that he had read about recently.

“Happened because of the Guardians.”

Maitho knew where this train of thought was going. It sounded impossible, as though something that belonged to campfire stories. He wanted to believe that Jonathan Cray was lying about it all. But what purpose would that serve? “The moon landing,” he said.

Cray spoke. “The Guardians again.”

“Cuban Revolution. Oppenheimer’s atomic bomb. The invention of the telephone.” Maitho threw random historical events, hoping that at least one of them had been truly accomplished by humans, without external influence.

His heart sank when he noticed Cray smiled. “All because of the Guardians.”

Maitho rubbed his face. “This is ridiculous,” he exclaimed, his voice laced with an obvious degree of denial. “You are talking about probabilities right here. Things don’t happen simply because of life and death. There are so many factors. Experiences. Education. Wars. Human connections. You’re saying that all of them don’t matter? That Guardians simply save someone’s life and that’s all it takes to, I don’t know, send people to space or cure a disease?”

“Not at all. Which is why Guardians don’t just save people.”

Maitho found himself at a loss for words. He managed to recover just enough to pose a question. “What else do they do?”

“Many Guardians are under the impression that their kind only have one purpose, to save people’s lives.”

Maitho responded. “But that is not the case.”

“No, Mr. Oruba,” another smile from Cray. “You are part of a group of Guardians called Saviors. You rescue people. Save lives. Or at least, lives that the Gods specifically want you to save.”

“What other group of Guardians are there?”

Cray settled back in his seat. “There are two. One of them is called Guides. Guardians who make things happen. You can think of them as orchestrators of events. Someone needs to be somewhere or if something needs to happen, they are the ones who take care of things.” He took a moment to ponder something, his eyes glazing over for a second. “In 1893, Mahatma Gandhi traveled to South Africa and apparently faced racism. But there is no history of what exactly happened to him there. No records of his time in the region, nor details of where he lived. We know better. At around the same time, he had befriended a Guardian who was adept in political affairs. Gandhi was so moved by the Guardian’s beliefs and words that he went on to become a political leader himself.”

Maitho thought back to everything he had read about the famous leader of India from history books. None of them mentioned anything about being influenced by anyone in South Africa. “And the other group?”

“Assassins. And I hardly have to tell you what they do, do I Mr. Oruba?”

“And now you’re saying that Guardians kill as well.”

“They do. Do you know what Lee Harvey Oswald said after he shot John F. Kennedy?”

Maitho didn’t nod, but he knew the answer. Yet he was afraid of saying it out loud. “That he was innocent.”

Cray snapped his fingers and pointed at Maitho. “Exactly. For the longest time, some suspected that there was someone else who was involved and Oswald just happened to be an unlucky passerby who was caught where the actual killer should have been.”

He didn’t know how it happened, but Maitho’s fist pounded the glass table, making the objects on it vibrate. “This is ridiculous. You’re talking about total control and manipulation of people.”

“Not total control, no. And this is where free will comes into play. For whatever reason, the Gods are not allowed to directly influence the affairs of human beings. But nothing is stopping them from indirectly doing so. That is why they need Guardians. You see, you are not entirely mortal, which means that the Gods can impose a few rules over you. Then again, you are not entirely a godly entity either, so they can’t just do whatever they like. When you retain your human side, you retain the rules of free will as well.”

“Now you are contradicting yourself,” said Maitho. “One either has free will or they don’t.”

“And you do. So do humans. But one can have free will and still be influenced, can they not?”

This was beyond what Maitho was expecting. It felt as though the world around him was flipped over. That everything he had known all his life had been a lie. He felt like an imposter living in someone else’s body.

Cray continued. “The gods have always been in charge, Maitho. They are the commanders of this vast vessel called Earth and everyone on board follows their plans. And you Guardians are helping them in their mission, without even realizing that you are doing so. You are mere pawns who falsely believe in a grand and noble purpose.”

Maitho noticed a movement in the garden again. But this time, a figure stepped out from behind the fountain.

It was a young woman who looked to be around Maitho’s age. He made a mental guess that she was a Guardian and he wouldn’t be surprised if that was the case. The woman had golden-blonde hair that reached her shoulder blades. She wore a golden necklace that consisted of three cords hanging loosely, the lowest of which held a circular pendant with a gold-tinted glass gem. She was dressed in all white, with a top and a skirt that ended close to her ankles. The only variation of color in her clothing was a black belt that encircled her waist.

She made her way towards the group, her gait confident and measured. She was in no hurry, revealing that she was used to people waiting on her and not the other way around.

When she was close to the fence, her eyes met Maitho’s and she smiled.

“It’s good to have you join us, Maitho,” she said. “My name is Adahlia Mardoll, descendant of Freya, Goddess of War."