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The Fates don’t play favourites. They play their own cruel game, toying with each thread of existence, ensnaring all who dare to reach out for their own destiny. A lust to exact heinous and petty treachery merely for their pleasure. They seek constant chaos, eternally warring with order. Entropy is their oldest friend. Consequence is what they represent, but never affected by. Curse them. Hear that you demonic beings? Curse them! What profit will you garner from my imprisonment? These chains of black steel around my arms and legs hauled up into the web-like mist high above.
You are woefully ill prepared for what you have unleashed. Oh, I hear you laugh, endlessly an echo, it fails to taunt me, you scoff at control yet you will not be spared. In league with this being has marked you, the bell tolls. Your downfall now inescapable. Fate now a slave to what it is. I will laugh to that. Hear me laugh! I may break free or I may not but your threats will not silence me, your ignorance will not break me. Cast adrift, this pocket world, within, never without. A mirror for one, drooping and melting from the incessant stare, constant reflection always hidden out of my reach. I see what you have done. Take me out, order manifest weakened because of it. I applaud the audacity. I rue my momentary weakness.
But you cannot twist the universe towards your vision. It answers to no one, no one thing. It is as it is, the unseen master of all. Fate is as nothing to what casts its infinite shadow.
This one that has slipped his way into your influence, deftly manipulating what you believe is your own power—yes, you heard right you disdainful, hermit smelling Fates—your own power is no longer yours. Ha! I want my laugh to be what you hear at the very end, when all that you have wrought crumbles, this one is the cracked other. An unknown entity for so long. I admit I was blind to him. All were. All of us had eyes elsewhere, even you, Fates. Even you. All had been diverted, kept away from the true threat.
All but one, even if he wasn’t fully aware yet.
Desperate cries would be of no use, they would simply bounce around this empty chamber until breathless and weak, before disappearing into the unseen abyss. I will not grant you that pleasure, Fate, not at all.
A winged shadow swam along the chamber walls as Death slumped in his chains and wept mortal tears.
Return, a swift detour from the journey, granted for it is now a loose flowing river. It slows and reverses, spreads out, begun and end before it has ended and begun. Yes, time has its many mysteries but the mind will boil attempting to reconcile it with man’s primitive logic. It brims countless paths but one in particular must found, that aligns with all that have a beating, fragile heart. Look far, far back. Away from the precipice a lost world crawls towards, a sweet release of oblivion. The only way out the closed minded and overtly fearful can see. Back, back! Haunt no more, twisted predator of good conscience. Slink back into your unwanted den that reeks of despair and stained with torment.