The Changeling (working title)
an excerpt

You are a slave.

At the least you are supposed to be one. Whoever said all men were born free was lying. Humans were not born free, and they will not remain free much longer. The liberty you and mankind have enjoyed for the last million years was an accident about to be rectified. The last prerequisite of the formula to re-enslave humankind has been acquired, and your usurpers are even now ascending the steps to their thrones.

I am a changeling of the Greater Beings, your conquerors, and have lived amongst humans for my entire life. In many essences, I am far more human than not, and am probably the only one of my race who does not wish to see you in bondage. Even though I am infinitely younger than most of my kin—many of whom have been around since the beginnings of time and space themselves— I have had more experience amongst the so called Lesser Race than any of them. I am the only one who does not see the humans as inferior, but as fellows in the passage of time and companions in existence.

As a changeling, I no longer have access to the world in which the Greater Beings reside. I have admission to the shadow realm in between, as do they, but it is a capricious method of communication with my kindred. As a changeling, I am essentially an exile, and not loved by them; no being upon Earth may hold their affection. The shadow realm I speak of is going to be their portal; the artifact they recently acquired is like a key, from their world to ours. And when they come through, all Hell will break lose, literally.

I have no idea what I am going to do. I am as doomed as you are, when they come through. I’m a poor excuse for a savior, I know, and I’m sorry. I only hope that you will not allow yourselves to be easily conquered. I am not going to let mankind go down without a fight, and I hope you won’t either.