Nothing, merely a white expanse as far as the eye could see. The unchanging landscapes dull monotony was inescapable.

The only change in this scenery was a lone individual.

He was a male youth of around 16, possessing a somewhat full build and dark, curly hair.

He was also unmoving: like a grotesque living parody of a statue the individual stood staring into the eyes of oblivion. Only the slow rise and fall of his chest betrayed the fact that he had not yet crossed the waters of the Styx.

Stuck in this self imposed exile, the decades had been maddening.

The first decade was simple, he knew the plan was successful and that he was (in a way) immortal. And so he was content.

The second decade was worse, it had just ended when he felt a tear in his spiritual essence. This shadow of humanity was no longer content. He was startled to realize that where the bond to his former self was previously a source of contentment and reassurance, it was now a source of pain … and fear. He was a prideful being, and more maddening than the constant pain and fear emanating from his former self was the knowledge of his failure.

His spiritual basis meant that he needed food nor water. Thus, he sat and waited.

And so, he was prepared to continue his isolated existence until the coming of the four horses.

Truth be told, he was awaiting it.

However, his self imposed exile was broken with the sound of an ethereal voice shattering the silence of his solitude.

"Servant, who exists to serve me, heed my call"

He blinked, the concept of servitude was an interesting one, merely because of the implied change from his current torment. This was where he went wrong in the past. He had forgotten that the sheep will always be suspicious of the snake. It is better to go overlooked and hide in the shadows.

Any change would be welcome from his current unchanged scenery of nearly half a century.

Before he was able to express his interest in the scenario, the voice was gone as suddenly as it came.

Although the figure had yet to move, the slightest grin could be seen on his face. Whether it was from his final loss of sanity or merely satisfaction at some external stimuli, I cannot say. It falls beyond the desired scope of this tale and my knowledge. I am a mere scribe, not a soul reader.

This is the story of Louise Francoise de la Vierre and how she was able to change the world.