Era of the Dragoon

Interlude: Fate

Slowly, ever so slowly, did the die fall from her grasp like the dying breath of summer's last breeze. Glittering, the falling star spun its course to the board, where, eternally, it kissed its contact. Once, twice, three times it tossed itself across the board, each defiant saunter in a new direction. Laughingly, the star chose it temporal resting place with discretion enough to make the ageless impatient.

Almost gladly, Fate calmly leaned over the board to scan the intent. Four valiant and expectant faces looked up at her warily. She was not amused, and scowled down upon them.

It was often the Die of Chaos selected multiple souls to affect. It was not often the die consistently chose for her the same four souls together. Every fated event that is directed against one soul will inevitably affect at least one other soul indirectly. In these four's instance, however, their affection of events was ever unique; always direct.

This, of course, was a discomforting occurrence most rare. So rare, in fact, even twin siblings or the closest of lovers experienced events only indirectly.

Fate, curious of this anomaly, decided to play. She loved this part, and hated it just a vehemently. Before her was a stack of events innumerable. Now, she knew, was not the time for the cards to be fickle for her. Raising a stern hand above the deck, four events quietly slid free and suspended over the board.

Now was the moment of truth. Curling her slender wrist toward her, the infinite darkness of the cards began to swirl and soon the hurricane broke as the clouds parted to reveal the unbridled fate within. Four cards, four fates, four souls. The first, Despair, brought an eager shine to Fate's eyes. Anguish, the second, brought a smile to her lips. A light, lilting laugh escaped her as Bereavement became clear. Fate always found mortal difficulty to be more entertaining than their happiness.

Of course, her rage was made all the more horrible by her mirth when she was revealed the fourth event, Love. It appeared even Fate was to be kept in check by th very powers she was mistress over.

Grimacing in the throes of her own malice, she fumed as the board gave way to the ever changing and never ending Life Loom; a million glimmering threads spanning various distances for each soul's journey until it is pulled taut and snaps, then fades for eternity.

Fate paused for a moment, focusing her intent. Yes, there they were, all alongside and soon to be torn apart. First, Anguish was laid to rest. Her mark was already on the verge of breaking and needed a simple push to tatter his threadbare soul. Next came Despair, the great destroyer. His soul, starved as it was, would never recover. Bereavement was a simplicity, having her target just fallen into Love after suffer Loss so great Fate's heart wept at the time.

Lastly, and resignedly, Fate glared at the defiant Love card. It glared back at her unwaveringly. What to do, she mused, looking at the last soulstring. What to do, indeed.

Then, a thought occurred o her. Love of what? Anything.

Yes, she sneered, this may have been the perfect pairing. Again focusing, the Love event began to glow brightly and shimmer into a length of translucen rosy thread. Once the spool was complete, it floated on the invisible breeze into the loom, to make its spin into the soul of the final of the Four.

Valgren Darkheart.

Fate leaned back and tried to relax as the stormclouds over the world lifted and peace resumed.

Fate could not help a giggle. Peace, she thought, not for this world.