The sun beamed down lazily to straddle her outstretched figure; its rays warm and seductive as it made her sigh in soft ecstasy, dappling her skin with its incandescent glow. The touch of broken light felt almost teasing as it shone through the orange blossoms, whose fragrance lured her to savour the sweet taste of Spring. She lay there on the kline, surrounded by the decadent indulgences of nature; making love to the cool breeze that caressed the silky garment that embraced her perfect form. Around her, the infinite garden of her atrium stretched to all sides – her own pleasure house – sending her in moaning raptures as the day’s beckoning beauty had it’s way with her.

She felt her supple lips curve into a smile… The delights of deities were intoxicating. If not careful, the most abstemious of divine beings could be lured to reckless desire in the surrender to their heightened senses. But not her. No. Her domain of divine regency was not of the sorts to be affected by her abandon to pleasure. Impartiality, detachment, non-alignment; these were the themes that permeated her immortal governance. And her personality reflected this. Her favour was not a token to be won. Her powers were not a boon to be used for the blessed. She did not intervene in the shape of mortal lives. Yet, the course of all lives were shaped by her vigilance. Which reminded her…

With a heavy sigh, Fate gracefully arose, and with the same fluid motion floated toward the marble dias that stood in the centre of her garden. In the middle of the raised platform, a plinth stood, bearing the weight of a large sand pendulum. The concave bowl reflected her flawless beauty. Both it, and the opulent frame from which the tapered bob was suspended shone with a lustrous light that was reflected from the sun. The celestial piece was in perpetual motion, the bob ever swinging to and fro from its cable. Unfixed in its swing around the vertical, the tip continually shifted its plane as it followed the rotating geometry of a cosmic pattern that kept all in balance.

The goddess lazily waved her elegant hand. On the floor of the device, sand shimmered into existence to spread evenly over the concave surface, for the moment obscuring her brilliant visage. Drawn through the sand, was the patterns left by the endless oscillation – the paths of mortal lives made visible. And as the pendulum swung, the line within its plane of motion glimmered in a golden hue. Right above it, the cable passed through ethereal images that recounted the unfolding destinies of so many lives. The spectral figures shifted in and out of existence as the tales of their world were being told in scintillating flashes. And there… It seems as if the convergence of forces were underfoot.

Fate edged closer to the platform in delight, leaning in to watch the delicious display of destinies intertwining. She saw a gladiator who longed to break free from his captors, in way of the unholy charge orchestrated by a necromancer. In another image, she saw the strange movements of mountain raiders that upset the workings of an astute and clever witch. She may have been neutral for a goddess, but she found a distinct enjoyment in the world-altering course that mortal affairs could take. Especially, if it bred chaos…

Fate, after all, was as much composed of discord as it was of order. Her powers held sway over the vast dichotomy presented by worldy conundrums and the nature of young races.

She gleefully regarded the events that were unfolding, feeling a smirk play on her mouth as many curious motives came to fruition. But then her sly smile all but vanished as soon as it had appeared. She noticed the strange flicker of a plane line as it was lit up by the passing pendulum. The swinging point emitted a slight vibration, as if straining against the course of its motion. The line cast in the sand seemed to burn with a searing intensity then, holding the pendulum locked in a single back and forth directional sway that defied its destined preordained course of motion. So, we have a meddler… With a wave, she called forth the image of the soul who was defiantly altering the scheme by which the world worked.

For millenia, the goddess was never given pause by the likes of men. Their needs and desires had seemed fairly simple, uncomplicated, and perhaps even tedious. A predictability defined their actions, and she had long since grown accustomed to paying less attention to such trivialities. Until now… The churning images played havoc on her ability to distinguish any detail. Yet, she noticed a shadowy form that phased in and out of sight – a hooded figure, from whom emanated a power she had not sensed before. A mage whose motives were changing the course of fate itself.

The brazen soul tempts much by his deeds, she thought as she watched the pendulum swing back and forth. Perhaps it was time she intervened. It had been so long since a deity had to reposition the the pivot by which destiny dangled…

Inktober #9

You may want to read The Myth of the Courtship of Wisdom – a wider realm of lore that fits in with the interlinked pieces posted during Inktober.

2 thoughts on “Swing

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