Short Story: On Fate & Destiny


 * Author: blee
 * Google Doc

Bastaro, 2500HG

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Sand.

It flows endlessly, given purpose by wind and itself and nothing else.

Dunes form, dunes shift, dunes collapse, dunes reform.

Tvaluk heard a professor once, tankard in hand, loudly proclaim that sand acted as the perfect representation of entropy.

“If I were to take this very tankard”,they yelled, splashing some excellent pale ale on unfortunate neighbours, “fill it with sand, and invert it in the great desert, my ‘sand castle’ would get blown away.” Shockingly, there was barely any reaction to this bold claim. Unperturbed,the professor continued. “However! There’s a chance. A small, tiny, infinitesimal chance. There exists the slightest grasp of possibility that the wind will allow the reformation of exactly what was blown away! Maybe once in our entire universe’s lifespan, my sand castle will exist once more!”

The concept is…uncomfortable. Is this entropy the ‘fate’ that people talk about? Random, yet inevitable chance? Is there a chance that one is nothing more than an echo of a previous life, somehow following the exact path of a previous incarnation? After all, no matter how small a possibility, it does exist, does it not?

This duel that he was watching, Tvaluk contemplated, managed to make him think about this phenomenon, this...entropy, in an entirely different light.

Two wills clash. One figure raises a hand, a small length of rope released into the sky, pursued by a word of power.

Rope writhes, splits, becomes something eldritch. The other figure pauses, stares, grins.

Pocket, pouch of endless possibility, reached into. Tiny skeleton retrieved, prayed over.

Skeleton writhes, stretches, becomes something furry. The first figure laughs approvingly as this little mouse begins chewing through the rope homunculus. Hand is waved, rope transforms into a swarm of ticks, covering the little mouse.

Mouse shifts into granules of sand, swarming the swarm. Insects become water, befouling sand. Sand becomes glass, containing water. Water turns to steam, resultant pressure making glass explode.

Once again, the other figure pauses. Once again, they grin. A tiny piece of cotton is thrown into the storm of glass shards. Glass turns to dust, dust clings to steam, clouds form.

Loud laughter erupts from both wizards, and they run over and hug while excitedly discussing their duel, ignoring the crowd’s cheers as they walk off, hand in hand, masters of change, masters of their universe.

Perhaps…entropy needed not be seen as fate at all! Maybe it’s just the catalyst for change. And change…change is Possibility. Possibility, after all, is fate’s Master.

Alethustria, time unknown

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Briar tried to recall his thoughts on change, on entropy, and use them to reassure his triton companion. As is often the case with these things, he kinda bungled it, but it’s fine! This one is strong. Strong enough to verbalize doubts, worries. Resolute enough to see everything through despite them.

Erak was right, he smiled to himself, accepting a proffered piece of taffy. The lad really was quite extraordinary.

Little tempest, fear not your currents, your winds. Change is beautiful, after all.

Gentle smile resting on his face, Briar reached inside of his pocket, his pouch of endless possibility, offering little tempest a spirit fruit, gift from three, for one, but really two..